


The Winding Path Is The One That Leads Home

by Illusinia



Series: Elements of Life [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 09:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2503586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illusinia/pseuds/Illusinia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I'd do anything for Skye. She-” Grant's eyes fell back to the woman beside him, his hand brushing some plaster from her hair. “She saved me, gave me the strength to stand up to Garrett.”</p><p>“She seems to do that a lot,” remarked Coulson quietly, leaning forward in his seat a little to balance his arms on his legs. [...]“Have you thought about coming back? For Skye, if nothing else.”</p><p>“I can't yet,” whispered Grant. “I don't deserve to come back. Not after what I did.”</p><p>The sound of a third buckle unsnapping drew his attention back to Coulson as the man stood from his seat and headed towards the cockpit. “You should consider coming back. Whatever crimes you've committed or think you've committed, you can't atone for them alone. We want to help you, Grant. So please, let us.”</p><p>After four months, Grant encounters the team again and some much needed talking occurs.</p><p>Sequel to Breaking Free Is The Hardest Part</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Grant

**Author's Note:**

> So this was sitting on my computer for months and I finally found it again. I've been trying to rework the format so it flows like the first one did, but there's too much of a time lapse. So this is formatted in a more traditional, liner form. Sorry guys. Hopefully you still enjoy it
> 
> -Illusinia

-one week after Garrett's death, Unidentified Location in Wyoming, -

Picking his way across the field, Grant slowed as he entered the familiar forested area. It had been ten years since he'd been here. Ten long years with this place as little more than an after thought. Now, as he looked on at the over-grown space that was once a camp site and caught a glimpse of the rough cabin perched near it's edge, he felt his shoulders relax. Felt his body release some of the tension it had been holding in.

He knew this place, knew how things out here worked. It was familiar and safe. No one had really told him what to do here; he'd been on his own. And that's what he needed: to be on his own, alone. He needed to think, breath, and put his life back into order. Or rebuild it into something better, he wasn't really sure which one he wanted yet.

And what better place to deal with everything than where Garrett had started it all?


	2. Skye

-Four Months Later-

 

“Alright AC, we're heading in now,” informed Skye, double checking her ICER was loaded before she gave Trip a nod. He nodded in return, glancing back through the SUV's windshield at the innocuous building they were targeting.

 

It looked like a normal factory with a warehouse attached, long abandoned. Well, until you went underground. What looked like an abandoned lot had been magically transformed, courtesy of Hydra, into what Coulson referred to as a 'jump base': a supply center that transferred goods to other Hydra bases. Things like explosives and really unpleasant chemicals. They weren't interested in the chemicals or explosives though (well, Fitz and Simmons wanted to know what was in the stores, but they were the only ones who'd probably understand what half the stuff was). What they wanted was the list of bases where the supplies were being sent and a particularly dangerous piece of technology that was apparently being stored there in preparation for transfer. Coulson hadn't said why it was important, just that it was dangerous and they needed to grab it before Hydra transferred it.

 

Cue her and Trip breaking into the base.

 

“Acknowledged,” radioed back Coulson. “Remember our targets and don't take any unnecessary risks. If either of you run into trouble, get out of there.”

 

“Roger AC,” confirmed Skye, mouthing the word 'overprotective' at Trip. The other agent grinned and mouthed back 'he's talking to you'. Rolling her eyes, Skye pushed open the rear doors to the SUV and jumped out into the surrounding brush. “We'll radio you when we have the stuff.”

 

“May is standing by,” confirmed Coulson with a sigh. He hadn't liked it when Skye had insisted she and Trip go in alone, but she'd managed to get her way.

 

“Will do,” assured Skye before she flipped off the comm and looked at Trip. “I think he's getting worse.”

 

“You got shot in the stomach the last time you went in alone,” reminded Trip with a shake of his head as he followed her out. “I'd be worried, too.”

 

“Can we forget about that already?” asked Skye with a put-upon sigh. Firmly, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket, fingers brushing over the soft badge wallet buried inside her left one. Months later, and she was still carrying the beaten-up leather around with her. She couldn't explain it, but the worn wallet made her feel oddly safe. “That was over half a year ago.”

 

“Yeah, and Coulson's never going to forget it,” assured Trip with a grin before he glanced around the van at their target. “Did you manage to get anything that could help us figure out where we're going inside?”

 

“Nothing,” sighed Skye, moving to stand just behind Trip. Even her scans for a wireless signal had turned up empty. Whatever they were doing in there, it clearly didn't require wireless internet. At least none she could access. There could be barriers inside to keep things like the signals their modems and wireless receivers gave off from reaching outside the building, but it seemed unlikely. In all honesty, they were probably using an older method of tracking everything, like paper. It might be archaic, but it was safer from a data standpoint. “They made some changes to the building I think, but all I had were old blueprints. It's impossible to know if they're accurate. There was some construction here a few years ago, it might have changed things around.”

 

“Then how are we going to navigate?” asked Trip curiously, glancing at Skye expectantly.

 

Skye just grinned. “You get me to a computer.”

 

“Right, the usual plan with you,” chuckled Trip as he glanced down the hill towards the base. “What's our point of entry?”

 

Skye scanned the outside of the base, pointing at last towards the left corner. A large series of windows were built into the wall that had once let light into the production floor. “There's a door around the side of the building that's sheltered and leads onto the old manufacturing floor. It should be empty over there; most of the movement I've seen was down in the loading-bay place.”

 

“Then let's go crash Hydra's party,” offered Trip, flicking off the safety on his gun with a grin. Matching his grin with one of her own, Skye darted towards the side of the building with Trip immediately behind.

 

\------------------------

 

An eerie feeling settled over Skye as she made her way towards the main server room. Trip had broken away further back to head towards where Simmons and Fitz had reported high energy signatures indicating an alien artifact, leaving Skye to push forward towards her own goal: the primary server room and it's main terminal. And so far, she hadn't seen a soul. It was like the place was abandoned. She hadn't seen a single guard or scientist since they'd arrived. Then again, maybe they were all in Trip's area; it was where all the valuable stuff was held after all. They might not believe the servers would be a target.

 

 _No, that's too sloppy for Hydra. They know how valuable data is._ _I really hope this isn't a trap._

 

Unfortunately, it was a valid concern. A lack of guards indicated a high potential for a trap. After all, 'if it seems to good to be true, it's probably a trap'. Okay, that wasn't the exact expression, but it was her version of one. And hey, spies had their own sayings too, right?

 

Edging down the hall, Skye tried to find something to indicate someone else had been there before her. Anyone. Seriously, she was starting to think she was going the wrong way. Though for an unused hallway, the place was surprisingly clean.

 

Then she heard it: the faint sound of a grunt echoing down the hallway. It was so quiet, she almost missed it. _Unless it's my own breathing, in which case I should probably see about getting a shrink because I've become way too paranoid. Wait, can a spy of a non-existent clandestine skeleton organization really be too paranoid? Or is that like saying a puppy is too fluffy?_

 

Quietly, she cocked her ICER and continued down the hallway as her mind kept racing away. _I'll ask Coulson later. Wait, he'll just say there's no such thing. I'll ask Trip. But wait, Trip didn't realize his SO was a piece of Hydra trash. Then again, I didn't realize Ward was one either. Then again, Garrett did kinda seem to do a number on him, so it's a little hard to say how Hydra Ward was. And he did kill the man. God, why am I even thinking about this now! Focus, Skye! Getting shot once was enough!_

 

Clearing her head with a shake, Skye paused at the end of the hall, just before the turn, and checked her weapon. Whoever was down there wasn't going to get the drop on her. Not this time or ever again, damnit. Taking a deep breath, Skye mentally counted to three and jumped around the corner with her gun raised.

 

The hall was empty.

 

 _Okay, definitely paranoid,_ thought Skye as she stepped into the hall and lowered her weapon. There was no one there and no signs anyone had been there recently. _Paranoia has definitely hit an all-time high._

 

Hugging the wall as close as she could and keeping her gun in hand, Skye continued towards the one door at the end of the short hall. It was her ultimate goal: the server room. Every ounce of data she needed should be stored inside. One bug, and her system could download the entire mainframe as soon as she sent the signal.

 

She paused once she'd reached the server room door, listening for any sign someone was inside. She'd swear she heard someone in the hall earlier and this was the only possible place they could have gone. Still, no sounds echoed from inside. Glancing down, however, she saw a shadow pass under the door, so quick it might have been her imagination. _No way that's a double coincidence. I'm not that crazy._ Checking that her gun's safety was off, Skye took a deep breath and threw the door open, her gun raised to shoot anyone who stood in her way.

 

Again, the room was empty.

 

“Oh come on,” muttered Skye, dropping her gun a little as she scanned the room. There was nowhere for anyone to hide inside. She'd thrown open the door, so anyone behind it would have been hit, and the rest of the space was taken up by server racks bolted into the walls and a desk with a chair that was directly across from her and facing a wall. She'd see anyone hiding there. The only other space in the entire room was the vent, and she could see that was empty. “Geez, who knew this spy stuff could make someone so paranoid.”

 

Re-holstering her gun, Skye shut the door quietly and made a beeline for the computer. She needed to reroute some information and disable a few standard (and not so standard) security options before she could plug in her device, but it wouldn't take long. Just a few admin password changes and an over-ride or two and SHIELD would have the names and locations of every Hydra base that ever contacted the distribution center. Then all they'd need to do was get back out, hopefully without being seen, and high-tail it back to SHIELD with their data and the tech they needed in hand. Piece of cake.

 

\------------------------

 

“Skye, Skye!” Okay, not exactly a piece of cake.

 

Coulson's voice cut through the gunfire echoing around Skye's head, bullets striking the metal container she was currently huddled behind. So much for the base being empty. Apparently there were still some guys around with guns and everyone had just been taking a damn nap earlier. So now, she was pinned down with no good way to escape.

 

Great, just what they wanted. Good thing she'd already started the data dump back in the server room. Even if these goons did destroy the servers after they escaped, the data would already be theirs and the system would have wiped all traces of her presence. Even the device she was using to transmit everything would disintegrate. Well, hopefully it would. Fitz said it would.

 

“I'm a little busy, AC,” shouted back Skye over the echoing racket. She checked her own gun to make sure there was some ammo still in the magazine, then glanced around for something she could use for cover to get a shot off without ending up a bullet-riddled corpse. “I could use a little help if Trip's not too busy.”

 

“He's on his way, Skye,” came back Coulson, the worry evident in his voice, “and May's inbound as well. Just stay down and hold your position. ”

 

A bullet ricocheted off the wall just above Skye's head, over the container she was ducking behind. “Yeah, I'll let you know how that works.”

 

The echo of a shout suddenly cut through the room, followed closely by another. Then, silence. Skye didn't even wait a moment before she risked peeking around the container. She half expected bullets to start flying again; instead, she found both men on the ground with I.C.E.R. rounds in their heads. Immediately, her eyes scanned the room for Trip; obviously the other agent had managed to reach her position faster than anticipated.

 

A shadow flickered across the wall on the catwalk above, catching Skye's attention. For a second she tensed, but when she saw no sign of a weapon, the tense eased from her shoulders. Waving at Trip as he started to jog quickly towards the stairs, Skye let herself relax further. He'd be down there with her in a minute, possibly less. Which was good because her clip was basically empty.

 

Stepping out from behind the container, Skye nearly jumped out of her skin when she realized Trip was already there checking on the unconscious men. Man, he really was fast. “Geez man, give a girl a heart attack. What'd you do, jump the rail?”  


“Jump what rail?” asked Trip, glancing up at Skye with furrow brows. “Good job taking these guys down, by the way. Coulson said you were pinned.”

 

“I was,” replied Skye, brow drawing into a furrow like Trips. Her eyes rose to scan the cat-walks again. “I thought you shot them from that catwalk.”

 

“What?” questioned Trip, standing from the second guard and scanning the same catwalk that she had moment before. His hand tightened around the gun in his hand, tension clearly climbing up his back. “You saw someone up there?”

 

“Yeah, right after the guards went down,” confirmed Skye, eyes falling away from the catwalk at last and focusing on Trip. “I thought it was you.”

 

“That wasn't me,” stated Trip firmly. “I was never up there.” His eyes fell away from the catwalk as well, scanning the rest of the warehouse sized room as best he could. Stacks of boxes made it harder to see. “Which way did the person go?”

 

“Towards the back,” replied Skye, clicking the safety on her gun and holstering it. “Should we go after them?”  


“Negative,” cut in Coulson, his voice echoing across their comm lines. “We don't have time to chase shadows. May's waiting to pick you both up.”

 

“Roger, Coulson,” came back Trip, clicking the safety on his own gun but keeping it in hand as he started towards the doors he'd just entered through. “We're heading to the extraction point now. ETA, five minutes.” Glancing back at Skye, Trip nodded towards their escape route. “C'mon baby girl, let's get out of here.”

 

“Yeah,” sighed Skye, nodding once before she began to cut towards the doors just behind Trip. She couldn't help the nagging suspicion that crawled through her mind though. The person on the catwalk was familiar- she'd sworn it was Trip because of the build alone. No one else she knew was built like that, at least no one who'd be capable of shooting two guards like that. So if it wasn't Trip, who had been up there and why had they saved her? 


	3. Grant

His boots made a satisfying thump as they struck the wall, echoing loudly in the otherwise confined space. It was barely bigger than a cabinet in some ways, but the small, abandoned house near SHIELD's new base of operations suited Grant just fine. Plus, he had to remain near by if he was going to keep an eye on Skye. Right now, she was the only focal point he really had.

 

Garrett's revelations coupled with his sister's confession had turned his world upside down. Coulson, the man he'd been working under for nearly a year, the man he'd betrayed for Garrett, was his father. His _father_. It didn't get much worse than that.

 

He'd watched Coulson become a father and mentor to everyone else on the team; watched as they came to accept him as their leader who cared about everyone equally. The idea that someone as good as Coulson (and Coulson is a good man, Grant had seen the proof) was actually his father made him just feel like more of a failure.

 

And his mother was....anger churned Grant's stomach at the thought, his fist lashing out at the closest wall. The sensation of his skin splitting settled the rage a little, though it didn't come close to quelling the burning frustration he'd been carrying since he'd gone looking for answers. Only thoughts of Skye seemed to settle his mind enough that he could focus. There was no rational reason why the hacker had such a profound impact on him, but he had to admit he didn't really care. If she could calm the anger and rage that kept swelling almost uncontrollably beneath his skin, then he would welcome her in his life.

 

No, that wasn't true and he knew it. Knew that his attraction to Skye was a lot more than physical. She and him, they were the same type of people. They grew up in the same world: one where there was no one to protect them. They grew up in a world alone, and had grown stronger for it. But where Ward had become Garrett's shadow, Skye had become herself. There was nothing artificial about Skye; what you saw with her was what you got and Ward wanted that. He wanted that compassion and companionship; the friendship that she promised with her eyes and her words. Wanted that freedom to be himself, regardless of what that meant to everyone else.

 

Skye could teach him to be that way- to be himself and only himself. With her light, maybe he could be good. Maybe he could be like his actual father and not like the asshole who raised him. Maybe if he was good enough, if he proved he wanted to be good, the team would let him come back.

 

Part of him wanted to be back with the team, actually working with them to mop up this whole mess. But another, louder, part of him wouldn't let that thought set root. He'd betrayed them and there was no way they'd take him back. All he could do was lurk behind them and try to help where he could. Try to keep them safe and do the things he knew they couldn't.

 

Stepping over to his cot, Grant flopped down heavily and closed his eyes. If he didn't distract himself, his thoughts would start swirling soon and he'd never get any rest. It had been a continuous issue when he'd tried to take shelter back in Wyoming, one he just couldn't seem to get under control. With the thoughts came the anger and betrayal. Sleep wasn't much better, bringing thoughts of what it would have been like if Coulson had raised him; if Coulson had even known he was born.

 

Groaning, Grant forced the thoughts form his mind and rolled over on the cot. He needed to sleep now, while Skye would still be analyzing the data from their last raid. It had been difficult to get ahead of both her and Trip to take out the guards before they could get in. He'd thought she would catch him for sure when she cornered him in the server room.

 

\------------------

 

_A mental curse cut through Grant's mind as an elbow caught him in the gut, courtesy of the struggling guard he was trying to restrain. The grunt that left his throat when the guard's elbow hit his stomach reminded him how much he hated hand to hand. Guns didn't work so well when you were trying to be quiet though, and Grant was more than skilled enough in hand-to-hand to taken down this whole base. Even this guard who was determined to get away._

 

_His choke hold tightened as he cut off the man's air, waiting until he felt his captive's body slump before releasing him. The strike to the stomach had been a good one and he knew he'd be feeling it for a bit still. It didn't matter though, he just needed to get this guy's body out of sight before Skye reached the hallway. He was a good amount ahead of her, but the gap was closing and he hadn't cleared the server room yet._

 

_Grabbing the now-limp man beneath the arms, Grant quickly dragged him towards a vent and popped out the grate. It wasn't hard to shove him inside and reseal the vent. If the man wasn't already dead, he would be able to get out. If he was, then at least Skye wasn't going to find the body. He wasn't exactly being careful not to kill these guys- they were Hydra agents and he knew that if they weren't dead, they would just keep coming back. The only reason he wasn't outright killing them was the amount of blood already on his hands- he didn't need any more splattered there._

 

_The sound of quiet but rapid footsteps made Grant curse as he bolted to the server room as quietly as he could. Skye was right behind him. He'd know her footsteps anywhere. The server room needed to be cleared now._

 

_Opening the door as quietly as he could, he rapidly opened the door to slam it into anyone who was behind and caught a fist aimed for his head. He shut the door as he twisted the man's arm around, grabbing and slamming his pistol into the back of the agent's head. Said agent fell like a heavy sac. Ward released him and quickly turned back to the rest of the room. But there were no other agents in the room. He didn't take any time to reflect on how odd this was, just hoisted the unconscious agent onto his shoulders and shoved him into a vent like he had the other guards. There weren't exactly a lot of places for him to hide a body._

 

_Her footsteps were louder now- she really needed to work on that. Throwing the grate back over the body, Grant spun around in search of some place he could hide. Skye would surely shoot him if she caught him; it's what he would do at least._

 

_Rapidly, he spun and bolted across the room to a second vent high on the wall. He had no clue where it went, but he was going to be finding out. Pulling off the grate, Grant pulled himself inside with a grunt and quickly reset the grate just as the door to the room opened. He held his breath as Skye entered and checked the room before relaxing as she shut the door again. Every instinct told him that he should crawl backwards and disappear, but he couldn't bring himself to move away. Just the sight of her made his body relax. She was safe, alive, and unharmed. It was a relief; he hadn't actually seen her this close since he left her in that tunnel._

 

_He waited a moment longer before sliding backwards in the vent, away from the opening. As much as every ounce of his body screamed for him to stay, he knew he needed to leave. There were more men around this place and he needed to take them down._

 

_\------------------_

 

Sighing in memory of that chaotic experience, Grant lay back on the cot and flipped on the radio above his head. At least he'd managed to take out most of the men on Skye's end of things; obviously he'd missed two, but he wasn't about to let that happen again. Next time, he would take all the guards out. Skye needed to be kept safe from all threats he could save her from.

 

Closing his eyes, Ward listened to whatever sounds his little bug was transmitting to the radio (it sounded like a bunch of keystrokes, so Skye was probably typing) and allowed the noise to lull him to sleep.


	4. Skye

“Alright Fitz, 'Who was the last Anglo-Saxon king of England'?” Trip's voice was a calm, familiar drone in the Playground's rec room.

 

“Oh, that's easy!” objected Simmons, the partial pout audible in her voice. “Why does he keep getting the easy ones?”

 

“Yours have been just as easy!” countered Fitz, the affront in his tone as audible as Simmons pout. “It was King Harold, Trip.”

 

At that point, their bickering degraded into the usual _Trivial Pursuit_ argument and Skye tuned them out, mind refocusing on the information she'd been skimming at Coulson's behest. The flash drive currently plugged into her computer contained everything she'd been able to snag from the Hydra servers during her and Trip's recent excursion. And it was a lot of information. She was struggling to focus on everything though; her mind kept coming back to the figure on the catwalk- the one who'd shot the men firing at her.

 

She just couldn't figure out who could have taken out those guards if it wasn't Trip. No one else from the team had been in the base and May, who was the next closest person to the base, didn't use guns. And if it wasn't someone from the team, she couldn't figure out who it could have been.

 

Well, that wasn't entirely true; one person had crossed her mind several times over, regardless of the improbability. That thought had prompted her to tell Trip not to elaborate on the incident to Coulson no matter how much he thought they should talk to him about it. He'd almost threatened her to try to get out of her why, but she'd refused, ending the conversation with 'please, just trust me and let me try to figure thing out first'. So she'd run through everyone she could think of who could have a good reason for trying to keep her safe. Tried to come up with someone else who would go out of their way to protect her.

 

But no matter how may people she considered, the reality was that the man on the catwalk had looked and moved like Ward.

 

Except it wasn't possible her former SO was running around watching her back. He'd disappeared into thin air and they'd moved several times since then. They were working out of a secured base with no external contact lines Ward could be accessing. There was literally no way he could have tracked them to that exact base unless he was already there himself- and there was no record of him that she could find since he disappeared. It was like he'd dropped off the grid.

 

And if he had found them, was running around watching over the team, why wouldn't he say something to them? Why wouldn't he come back? They would welcome him back at the base. Clearly there was a lot more to his involvement with Hydra than Ward simply being a traitorous, murderous asshole.

 

Ward was a kid who'd been targeted by a sociopath hell-bent on seeking revenge; and he used Ward to do it. It wasn't Ward's fault Garrett had targeted him or that he'd been drawn into such an old fight. It wasn't his fault he'd been told one side of a very complicated story, likely spun to make Hydra look like the good guys. And even if the story hadn't been twisted into an unrecognizable mass by Garrett, Ward's dedication to the man who'd 'saved him' was enough to lead him to do whatever he was told. Because he had thought he'd owed Garrett, that his SO cared about him, until Garrett had shown his true colors. Then, Ward had killed the man who'd led him down a path he likely never wanted to go down in the first place. A path the Ward that Skye had seen peering at her sometimes wouldn't have ever taken.

 

Rubbing her eyes, Skye shook her head and tried to force her attention back on the files in front of her. There had to be something in those documents that would make a difference. Something they could use to take down more of Hydra. Something they could use to cut off more heads from the seemingly endless beast that had helped destroy a young boy's life (because Ward was another of a long list of atrocities Hydra had committed and more important because it was personal). But even as her eyes scanned the documents, she found her mind wondering back to the catwalk again and the person who had her back. The unknown man who'd protected her. The man who looked like Ward.

 

“You know, you could take a breather and try playing with us.” Trip's familiar voice caught Skye off guard, causing her to jump a little.

 

Glancing back, she found the specialist leaning on the back of her chair, staring at her in worry. Clearly, he still wasn't happy with her request not to tell Coulson what she'd seen, but the truth was that Coulson would ask her questions and she didn't want to lie to her boss about who she thought was on the catwalk. Because telling Coulson that his unknown son might be following the team around and protecting them wasn't an option right now. The whole mess with Garrett and Ward had upset the former SHIELD agent enough.

 

Blinking to dispel thoughts of Ward and telling Coulson his son might be stalking them, Skye shook her head at Trip and turned back to her computer. “Can't, I need to get this done.”

 

Plus board games were her and Ward's thing; playing them with the others felt....unnatural. She'd tried it with Simmons and Life about a week after Ward disappeared (she couldn't even look at Battle Ship), but it had felt too strange. She'd ended up excusing herself half-way through the game with the excuse that she'd forgotten to do something for Coulson. If Simmons knew she was making an excuse or not was impossible to say, but the British scientist hadn't tried to stop her all the same.

 

“C'mon Skye, you can take a break,” Trip tried to insist, even reaching for her computer in an attempt to remove it from her hands.

 

She batted his hands away easily though, pushing out of her chair as she snapped her laptop closed. Never bothering to glance back at him, Skye headed for the door to the rec room with a wave of her hand. “Sorry Trip, no time.”

 

Quickly, she left the room before anyone could say anything else, nearly sprinting towards her usual hiding place as soon as she hit the corridor. Less than five minutes later, she broke into the hanger where the Bus was parked. As she scurried up the familiar ramp though, Skye idly wondered if she was actually going to be alone on the Bus today. May and Coulson both used the flying plane as a refuge of sorts at times, but neither ever bothered to speak with the hacker. It was like a silent, three way agreement: I don't ask why you're here and you don't ask why I'm here. The fact that the three of them could be on the same plane at the same time and be alone was almost amusing. Almost.

 

Turning into the spiraling stairwell that lead up from the cargo bay, she ducked through the lounge and down the hallway to what had become a very familiar room. Ward's old bunk had become her hiding place almost a week after they arrived at The Playground; it was the one place no one looked for her. It was also the one place no one dared to touch. Well, except for Skye. She didn't really move anything around, of course, but she'd taken his laundry out and washed it pretty quickly; they didn't need the space smelling like old gym socks.

 

Pressing the latch release, Skye slipped into the small bunk that had once been Ward's. She shouldn't feel safe in the Hydra agent's room (it went against all reason or logic), but that hadn't stopped her from returning to the space every time she wanted to be alone. The bed creaked slightly as she sat down on the edge of it, scooting back to lean on the wall and settling her computer on her lap. As she flipped open the screen again and began working, Skye tried to force all thoughts of Ward, the rest of the team, and her mysterious shadow from her head. Right now, these files were what was important. She needed to focus on the task at hand and not get distracted by thoughts of Ward or some guy tailing her. Right now, taking down Hydra was more important than anything. Nothing else mattered.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

“Skye? Wake up.”

 

Skye shot up from her slouched position, her computer nearly crashing to the ground. It was only Coulson's quick reflexes that saved her precious baby from the harsh floor of the plane. Her boss gave her a questioning look as she blinked up at him, mind slowly coming back online.

 

“Hey AC/DC,” greeted Skye tiredly as she reached up to rub her eyes. “What's up?”

 

“I just thought you might like to sleep in your own bed rather than in Ward's old one,” remarked Coulson with a shake of his head. She heard his voice catch on Ward's name, belying his cool exterior. Not that she expected anything less; he wouldn't exactly talk about what happened with Ward to, well, anyone.

 

Shaking her head a little, Skye carefully sat up to stretch out her back. There was so much unspoken tension whenever Coulson called Ward by his last name, it made Skye want to hug the older man. “You know, you can call him 'Grant'. I mean, I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to be a 'Ward' anyway.”

 

The wince that crossed Coulson's face, however fleeting, was enough to tell Skye what the older man had thought of that particular idea. Namely, he didn't want to go there. Or rather, he wasn't ready to. Not for the first time, Skye wished they knew where their ex-teammate was, if only so Coulson could get some closure concerning the other agent. Of course, Ward was probably suffering just as badly. Finding out the boss you betrayed is actually your dad and the psycho who's been coaching you for years knew that probably wasn't easy.

 

“You should get some sleep, Skye,” stated Coulson simply, looking down at her computer rather than at her. And there was the proverbial dodge she'd gotten so used to seeing when the subject of Ward came up (it usually didn't unless she was bringing it up but hey...). “Whatever you're doing can wait. Pushing yourself like this won't help us shut down Hydra any faster.”

 

It had been Coulson's almost sole focus since Ward had vanished: shut down Hydra. Skye was more than happy to jump on that train, but even she knew a lot of his drive was a diversion for the rest of his feelings. Everyone on the team knew he was attempting to avoid the issue of Ward. The fact he hadn't asked Skye to track down Ward's mother was amazing and showed exactly how much he was avoiding the issue. All Skye knew was it couldn't be healthy.

 

Sighing in defeat and knowing Coulson was right, Skye slowly stood and took back her computer from their leader before turning to the door. “Yeah, yeah. I'm going.” Her voice was light as she spoke, almost teasing. It took a lot of will power not to automatically throw a 'dad' in there, too. That was definitely not something AC needed. “You've gotta do the same though, AC. I know you haven't been sleeping enough- I review the base security cameras every day.”

 

An equally defeated sigh left Coulson as he followed her out of Ward's old room. It was his admission of guilt and she knew it. Not that she really needed it- cameras don't lie. “I'm going to bed now, I promise.”

 

Nodding in satisfaction, Skye proceeded off the Bus and turned towards her room. It was on the end, between Jemma's room and an empty one they weren't using right now. Of course, that would change once some of the others started to arrive- Skye had heard Coulson discussing the matter with Maria Hill over phone when she'd swung by after the mission to debrief with him. The thought of someone else using the room made Skye's stomach twist a little uncomfortably, though. She'd become so accustomed to sleeping between Fitz and Jemma, she didn't really want to sleep beside some stranger. Part of her wanted Ward to come back and claim what should be his room. It wasn't going to happen, but that part of her that wanted him back, even though he'd betrayed them all for Garrett wouldn't shut up all the same.

 

Entering her room, Skye carefully deposited her computer on the desk beside her bed before changing and climbing into the warm blankets. Settling into bed, Skye started to close her eyes when a thought cut through her mind. _Shit, I forgot to grab it._

 

Groaning, she forced herself back up and stumbled to where her clothes from that day were laying sprawled on the ground. Fishing around in the pocket of her jacket, she came up with Ward's old ID a moment later and tossed it onto her pillow. It had become a habit born from that first night when she'd shoved the ID inside her pillow before falling asleep. Now she found it almost impossible to sleep without the ID near by where she could find it. Mostly it was because she was terrified someone would throw it out. Or worse, that May would confiscate it.

 

She knew it sounded crazy, but when she'd found the ID in her pocket, it had felt like Ward was doing more than renouncing his former life. As she'd held the battered ID, it had felt like Ward was promising to come back. Like he was asserting his loyalty to her. The idea had been so terrifying at first, she'd nearly burned the ID to dislodge the discomfort that had settled with her. But when Ward hadn't shown back up, Skye had felt that unease slowly flow out of her body. Yeah, she still wasn't sure why he'd given her the ID, but she was grateful all the same. And part of her (a big part of her) hoped on some level it was a promise to return.

 

Flipping open the ID as she lay back, Skye let her fingers trace over Ward's picture slowly. She wanted him back home with them, not so she could have him back but so that they could help him. Ward had faced every challenge in his life on his own so far; this time he should have the right to have help. Dropping her hand, Skye stared up at the ID as she spoke. “Come back to us, Grant. We miss you. I know you're going through hell, but you shouldn't have to face this alone.” Her words trailed off at that point, mind wondering as she continued to stare at the ID. Ward couldn't here her (another fact), but that didn't stop Skye from wishing (not for the first time) that he could.

 

Slipping the ID into her pillow at last, Skye rolled over to face the door and closed her eyes. She'd need to debrief Coulson early tomorrow morning; the stuff she'd found before she nodded off had been important and they would need to move on it fast. After all, Hydra had to know they'd been in the base by now, and they weren't likely to wait long before abandoning their bases if they thought their locations had been compromised. She'd just have to hope they made it in time.

 


	5. Grant

It was the sound of voices that woke Grant, bringing him to consciousness from the half-sleep he'd been hovering in for several hours. At least, that's what it felt like. Coulson's voice rang through the small speaker he'd hooked up to his transmitter, deeper than Skye's usual excited tones. Her voice was a melody he could listen to anywhere. Coulson's voice was deeper, closer to Ward's own voice. It was an unnerving comparison Ward had been working hard not to make in the months since he'd started spying on the group. Rubbing his eyes, Grant turned up the volume on the speaker and dragged himself out of bed to scrounge something to eat together.

 

It wasn't hard- he'd lived in the woods for five years with few supplies, so he knew how to hunt and find his own food. And the down time between when Skye and the others went out was perfect for hunting down food. He still had some deer in the crappy refrigerator he'd managed to get working; it would do as breakfast. It was better than the scentless, tasteless MIR's SHIELD had given them. As he threw the meat into a pan so it could start cooking, he half-listened to the conversation spewing from his speaker.

 

“So, I went through the list of locations that I pulled from the transfer base we raided,” explained Skye, her voice tense and frustrated. That meant there was a problem, and with Hydra a problem could be anything from 'they're roots run deeper than we thought' to 'they're playing water polo with a nuclear bomb'. It was part of why he hadn't liked Hydra from the beginning- and why he'd only stayed for John. They were unstable as a whole and liked playing with things even he found disgusting and distrubing.

 

“What kind of a problem?” countered Coulson. His voice was more muffled than Skye's, likely because of where the bug was. He hadn't had as much time as he'd like to place the little devices. Hell, he'd been lucky to get his hands on them. Fortunately, he had the foresight to add it to his list of safe-house supplies.

 

“The kind that makes tracking them messy,” replied Skye with a frustrated sigh. “It looks like half of these supposed bases are actually additional transfer stations. The problem is, I have no way of telling which is which.”

 

Yeah, that was pretty much part of Hydra's MO. Some of the bases and science centers would be disguised as transfer stations to reduce the chance they'd be raided. After all, usually if you were going to raid a base, you'd go after the higher profile target to take out a bigger piece of the pie. They might even disguise a major base as a observation post to reduce the probability of an attack.

 

“There has to be something we can use to identify the bases,” insisted Coulson, his voice tense. Grant could practically picture his former boss leaning forward to get a better look at the monitors. Of course, there are ways. Namely though, you have to know the number tags on the end of the base identification numbers. That's what identifies bases from transit stations.

 

“I can't find anything with just this data,” explained Skye with a frustrated sigh. “Hydra's servers are all isolated and internal. I'd need to be on the networks to activate the data and even then I need to really be plugged into a computer on the base. The only thing I've noticed is that each base ID has six numbers on the end that seem to be repeated between the different IDs.”

 

Grant smirked a bit. Of course Skye would notice the ID tags. Hydra had stuck the identifying tags at the end of the numbers rather than the beginning to throw off anyone trying to work out what was what. Of course Skye would spot it though. The way her mind could handle codes and computers was more impressive than she'd ever acknowledge.

 

“The end but not the beginning?” questioned Coulson.

 

“Yeah,” confirmed Skye. Her chair squeaked as she leaned back in it. “Weird, right?”

 

“It might be an identification code,” explained Coulson. “Can you work anything out based on the shipping manifestos?”

 

“I don't know what half of this stuff _is_ ,” growled Skye irritably. It wasn't hard to image the way her face scrunched up when she was frustrated and, for a moment, Grant got distracted by the thought and almost missed the rest of her statement. “I gave the list of stuff to Simmons and Fitz, but it didn't help. Besides, just because a piece of equipment is sent somewhere doesn't mean it _stays_ there, and that's the issue.”

 

He wished he could help them, send them a message, something, but he wasn't ready to face the team and he knew it. After everything he'd done, he didn't deserve to get them back and they didn't deserve his ghost haunting them. If he stuck to his plan, no one would know he was ever there and he could make it up to them by keeping everyone safe. It was the absolute least he could do.

 

“I don't want us going in blind, Skye,” insisted Coulson. “There must be something you can do.”

 

For a long moment, the line was silent save the clicking keys echoing over the line. The venison made a popping sound and Grant lifted the pan off the fire. He'd found out a very long time ago that burned venison was one of the worst tasting things ever and, like before, he didn't exactly have spices to fix things like that.

 

“Alright, there's one thing I can say,” stated Skye at last. Again, he heard her chair creek as she shifted around but this time it was followed by her footsteps. “I took a look at the shipment lists, the stuff I could identify. Some of these shipments are food and those shipments don't always go back out. So, based on what goes in and doesn't leave, I can kind of guess how many people are in a base.”

 

“But you can't guess what bases are what by following the equipment?” challenged Coulson, his voice tinged with disbelief.

 

Skye groaned. “I'm working with part of a map here. Hydra didn't keep a full list of their locations in that one transit station. I only know the places that transit station shipped to, but I can't see what's going in or out of the other bases, only that one.”

 

“And since there was a fire fight, they might clear out those bases that transit station was servicing,” added Coulson with a sigh. “Alright, I want a list of the best possible targets you can determine. We'll hit a few of them and see if we can figure out this location code.”

 

“Got it,” confirmed Skye, her footfalls leading back to her computer chair. “I'll have it to you this morning.”  


“Thank you, Skye,” confirmed Coulson before his footfalls moved away from the bug. The door opened and closed a second later, telling Grant his former boss was gone.

 

Popping a piece of food in his mouth, Grant began gathering his things in preparation for departure. He'd follow them to their target, either by car or sneaking into the Playground to stash away on their jet. It wasn't easy, but he had done it before.

 

A heavy sigh from Skye drew Grant's attention back to his little speaker. She sounded so exhausted, he just wanted to hug her. Maybe he could find a way to sneak her a message, something to help her out. It wouldn't be easy (he didn't exactly have a computer here) but maybe he could leave her a note somewhere...

 

“Damn it Grant, why did you have to disappear,” murmured Skye, the tension in her voice audible. “You could help us so much...”

 

His heart twisted at her words, stomach nearly dropping out. Suddenly, the deer meat didn't seem so appealing. After everything, he hadn't thought anyone would want him back. But apparently Skye (it was always Skye) proved him wrong. Her words reminded him why he worked so hard to protect her; why he was still following the team like a ghost. Why he had been following them for two months, taking out Hydra agents and keeping them safe.

 

Taking a deep breath, Grant forced himself to return to eating. He'd need the energy and there wasn't going to be a lot of time between then and when the team would deploy. If he knew Coulson at all (from a tactical standpoint he knew Coulson very well- everyone in SHIELD did), then they would leave soon. And Grant needed to be ready to follow.

 

\---------------------------------------

 

_This isn't how it's supposed to go down._

 

That's the thought that kept running through Grant's head as chaos erupted around him. He'd tried to take out the guards before the others even got inside, but he'd made the same mistake everyone else did: he underestimated Hydra. It was a deadly one, too.

 

The base Coulson had settled on from Skye's list was one of the smaller ones, Grant had to give them that. He probably wouldn't have made a different choice. Unfortunately, he hadn't predicted there would be so much firepower in this particular base. Apparently, there was more than one code for a science base and the code changed based on the research. And this particular base happened to specialize in heavy fire-power weapons.

 

_I need to find Skye._

 

He'd already been inside when Skye and the others burst in; he'd managed to take out most of the guards pretty easily on the upper floors. There really hadn't been any trouble until the alarms starting going off. After that, all hell had broken loose. Grant still wasn't sure why the alarms had started going off, but he was willing to bet someone had tripped something. And alarms in a Hydra base didn't just go off from intruders. He couldn't be certain this wasn't some chemical alarm or a dangerous experiment wasn't running around the halls looking for its next meal. The thought alone made Grant speed up. H needed to find Skye, now. She needed to be okay.

 

Tapping his ear piece, Grant prayed he would be able to still access their frequency. They'd never commandeered his ear wig, but they could have changed the frequency easily enough. It wasn't like Fitz wasn't a genius and changing a wave length reader wasn't rocket science. Taking a deep breath, he prayed he'd still get a signal.

 

It took a second, but Coulson's voice came across the line clearly. “Skye, where are you?”

 

“Server room,” replied Skye, the sirens cutting through the comms. “What the hell happened?”

 

 _Server room, should have guessed,_ reprimanded Grant as he turned towards a hallway to his left and threw another attacker over his shoulder.

 

“We tripped something,” came Trip's reply over the line. “Not sure what. We thought we'd gotten one of the door locks but the alarm started going off as soon as it opened.”

 

“AC, I'm almost done, I just need five more minutes,” insisted Skye. Grant could hear her fingers flying over the keys as she went. “Just keep them away from here.”

 

“Will do,” confirmed Coulson. “Trip, May, is there anything there you can use as a distraction?”

 

“Does ten pounds of C4 and a tank of gasoline work?” asked May. The touch of a smirk in her voice almost made Ward shiver. May scared him- he would never deny this. And the thought of her and Trip playing with explosives made him all the more nervous. Why Hydra had that kind of explosive firepower here, he'd have to figure out later. It wasn't important now.

 

“Why does Hydra even _have_ that?” asked Skye, voicing the same question running around in Grant's head. Then again, he probably didn't want to ask. There were a lot of things Hydra did it was just better not to ask about.

 

“Don't question it right now,” stated May. “We can deal with the 'why' later.”

 

“Try to take out as much of the equipment as you can,” ordered Coulson. “I want as little salvageable as possible.

 

“You got it,” came back Trip before the comms fell silent.

 

For several minutes, no sound came through the line. All Grant could hear were the sirens and his own rapid breathing. Everyone had disappeared from the halls, making him all the more antsy. It could just mean someone had managed to trigger a distraction but it could also indicate they'd found someone on the team. A team he needed to keep safe.

 

Three agents appeared in front of Grant, turning out of a hall ahead. His vision went a little red when he spotted the men moving towards the servers. The room he needed was dead ahead and Skye was inside. His Skye, his hope. He wasn't going to let these men near her.

 

Catching them wasn't hard.

 

The first one fell back when Grant grabbed his collar, slamming the man's head against the wall. He didn't get a chance to make a noise as he fell. His buddies noticed his absence almost instantly, turning on Grant and raising their weapons. Grant never paused as he raised his own guns and planted ICER rounds in both men before they could properly react. It wasn't as satisfying as hitting someone, but it was a lot more efficient and efficiency was what he needed right now.

 

Throwing on the speed, Grant reached the door to the server room in seconds and threw open the door. Skye spun around at the terminal, a flash drive in one hand and a gun in the other leveled at him. Grant raised his hands immediately in response. It would really suck if Skye shot him by accident. Or on purpose. Honestly, if she shot him, it might be intentional and he knew it.

 

Shock crossed her face, her gun lowering as she blinked at him. Recognition flashed across her eyes before her voice choked out his name. “Grant?”

 

It was so rare to hear his first name from her lips, he momentarily froze just staring at her. She was beautiful; as beautiful as he remembered. As beautiful as she was the last time he'd seen her in the transit base.

 

The ground shook before he could speak, then tilted and suddenly he was falling. Air was forced him his lungs as he landed on his stomach and chest, arms immediately folding to cover his head. It lasted only a second, the sound of crashing metal and scent of crumbling cement filling the space around him. The smell was almost suffocating, but Grant didn't care.

 

As soon as he had breath back in his lungs, he was up and stumbling through the now-ruined room. More than once he tripped over a chunk of concrete, bits of exposed metal slicing his arms and legs as he forced his way towards where Skye had been just moments before. _Please be alright, please be alright, please, please, please._ The mantra ran endlessly through his mind as he scrambled towards Skye, praying that she was there and safe.

 

Slabs of cement and twisted metal lay scattered around the half collapsed room, with Skye laying, unmoving in the middle of it all. Grant felt his heart seize momentarily as he took in her splayed form, fear gripping him like a vice. Memories from that fateful basement, blood pooling around Skye's unmoving body, flooded his mind as he stared at her. He couldn't move, couldn't breath. All he could do was fight against the fear he'd lost her again.

 

Faint motion caught his eye, his attention locking onto her body. A second passed before it happened again: her back slowly rose a little then fell. He was moving before he could register what had happened, diving for where she lay and pressing shaking fingers to her pulse. It beat beneath his hand, steady and strong. Grant almost collapsed in relief. She was alive.

 

Frantic shouting caught Grant's attention, the ringing in his ears finally dying back. It took a second for him to realize the team was shouting for Skye. He didn't think about the consequences as he carefully pulled the communicator from her ear and replaced his old one with the disabled mic with hers. Coulson's shouting nearly deafened him, but he ignored the pain as he carefully scooped Skye into his arms and began maneuvering his way towards the door to the server room.

 

“Coulson, this is Wa- Grant.” He had to half shout to be heard over his former boss' frantic cries. Almost immediately, the entire comm system fell silent. Okay, he should have probably expected that. “I have Skye with me. She's alive but unconscious. I don't know where the stuff she was working with is, but the room is destroyed so I doubt the drive survived anyway. I'm going to get her out of here and back to the plane.”

 

“I'm half way to where you are, Grant,” came back Trip, his voice steady if a little puffy. “I'll meet you on the way and cover you while you get her out of here.”

 

“Everyone pull out.” ordered Coulson, his voice cracking a bit as he spoke. No one was going to call him on it though, so it didn't matter. “Grant, get Skye back to the plane and then stay with her, please. We'll be right behind you.”

 

“Roger,” replied Grant almost automatically, his focus completely on getting him and Skye out of the base. He needed to protect her- to save her. She was the only one he'd ever felt actually saw him as more than a means to an end, who questioned who he was and tried to make him more human. More than just a living weapon. She was the light guiding him back to the path, the one who could make him good again. Right now, she needed him. It was his job to keep her safe.

 

The hall outside the server room wasn't as severely damaged as the server room, but it was still in pretty bad shape. Clumps of concrete jutted from the floor and several of the ceiling lights were hanging at odd angles; nearly all of them were out. Carefully, Grant picked his way across the ruined floor as rapidly as he could. They needed to get out of there as quickly as possible; he couldn't fight anyone off carrying Skye, so speed would have to be his weapon. _I really hope Trip was serious about meeting us en route._ Reaching the end of the hall, he paused just short of the corner and took a deep breath. If there were people down the hall, he would need to come up with a plan fast.

 

Gun shots echoed from around the corner before Grant could check what was happening. Instinctively, Grant retreated backwards a little, drawn between setting Skye down to draw his gun and retreating back to the server room for cover. Unfortunately, it wasn't really a question. The server room was too far and whoever was shooting in the hallway would probably overtake them before they reached cover. This way at least, he could take cover at the corner and ambush any attackers.

 

Setting Skye carefully down against the wall so he could shield her and still fire his gun, Grant drew his fire arm and double checked that Skye was safe before raising his gun towards the corner. Gunshots were still ringing through the hallway, though the noise was dying down. Whatever was happening, it was coming to an end quickly. Hopefully, whoever was winning was on their side.

 

The echo of the last shot died away slowly, giving way to the sound of someone hurrying towards where he was hiding with Skye. Grant cocked his gun and raised it, prepared to fire if necessary.

 

It wasn't. Trip came half flying around the corner, his own gun coming up as he caught sight of Grant's firearm. A beat passed before their arms got the 'friendly' message, both men dropping their guns at the same time. Almost immediately, Grant holstered his gun and turned for Skye. Behind him, he could hear Trip flipping the safety onto his own gun and stepping back.

 

“What happened?” asked Trip, his voice filled with worry as Grant lifted Skye back into his arms.

 

“An explosion took out the room,” replied Grant, careful not to sound accusatory. There was no way Trip or May could have predicted this would happen and even if there was, this wasn't the time. They could assign blame later, when no one was at risk of getting shot by a Hydra goon. Turning back to Trip, Skye carefully balanced against his body, Grant motioned towards the hall. “You know the way out?”

 

“Yeah,” confirmed Trip, turning back to the hall and glancing around the corner. “I found a short cut.”

 

“Good,” muttered Grant, gripping Skye just a little tighter. “I want to get Skye out of here as quickly as possible.”

 

Trip glanced backwards once more, giving Grant a sympathetic look. “Hey, she's gonna be okay. We'll get her out of here and she'll be back up and driving us all crazy before you know it.”

 

“I know we will,” confirmed Grant, his lips set in a grim line. He glanced down at her once more, his stomach twisting a bit out of fear. “Let's go.”

 

“Done,” assured Trip, removing the safety from his gun. “Let's get Skye back home.”

 

Grant nodded slightly, tightening his grip on Skye as Trip started back down the hall. He followed a few steps behind, just barely stopping himself from bolting clear of the building with his charge. Trip had to be his gun right now; Trip had to be responsible for both their safety. It didn't sit well with Grant (he hated depending on others), but there wasn't a choice. And he'd do it if Skye would be safe in the end.

 

The halls were like a never ending maze, so much so that Grant almost felt like a rat. He knew where he was going (his navigation skills were far superior to most people's), but it didn't stop him from feeling like he would run into trouble if he turned a corner. Still, he continued forward, following Trip as they darted through the halls. He could hear people on occasion as well as shots, but Trip was only forced to shoot maybe ten people in total that Grant saw. There might have been more- he did loose sight of the specialist a few times.

 

It felt like forever before Trip pushed open a door in front of them and sunlight fell in rather than the artificial light of another hall. Smoke poured out from behind them, rising into the air like an ancient signal. He'd smelt something burning inside, but he hadn't actually realized something was burning until he could breath air that wasn't smoke clogged.

 

Across the grounds, the glint of a plane caught Grant's eye. Trip was already heading that way, running towards the jet and their safety. He really hoped May was already inside; with Skye injured, Grant didn't want to wait for her to get out of there. Footsteps cut across the ground behind him as he darted for their means of escape, but Grant didn't look back to check who was running behind him. He couldn't fire with Skye in his arms and looking would only slow him down. Whoever was back there didn't matter- if they were friends he was safe and if they were enemies, his only chance was the plane.

 

Shots never rose from behind him, just Coulson's shouts for everyone to get on the plane. He didn't need to be told twice, running up the back ramp and pressing himself to the wall with Skye so the others could get in right behind him. Coulson and May were seconds behind, May darting for the pilot's seat while Coulson closed off the gangway. Trip was no where to be seen, but Grant could hear him rummaging around somewhere on the plane all the same.

 

“Grant, we need to secure her for take off,” stated Coulson, drawing Grant's attention fully back on the situation in front of them and momentarily off the injured woman he was still cradling close.

 

He nodded without thinking, immediately moving her to one of the jump seats along the wall. It wasn't easy to strap her in and it took both him and Coulson to pull it off, but in the end, as they were rising into the air, Skye was at least mostly secured in a seat.

 

Grant took the seat beside her, letting her head loll onto his shoulder as he attempted to support her at least a little. He'd unstrap her when they were in a safer position, one where they weren't getting shot at and wouldn't be jostled too much. He didn't want Skye to get hurt any further than she was, but he didn't want to let her go either. He'd thought it would be easier to see her again after months of stalking her and the rest of the team, but it wasn't. That same desperate feeling from months ago, when he'd first abducted her and dragged her to his safe house, was creeping in like a growing shadow. He wanted to be near her, around her. She was a light he could take shelter beneath and know he was safe. The one point he could focus on when his world was turning upside down. And right now, his world was definitely upside down.

 

“How is she?” Coulson's voice shocked Grant out of his thoughts, his eyes falling on the man sitting across from him. It was the first good look he'd gotten of Coulson since before John's rather disorienting reveal and he had to admit, he could see the resemblance between himself and his former boss. It made him uncomfortable in more ways than one.

 

“I don't know,” muttered Grant in response, his eyes sliding away from Coulson to refocus on Skye. If he focused on her, maybe this wouldn't be the most awkward conversation ever. “She's alive.”

 

“Alive is good,” agreed Coulson, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Thank you.”

 

Grant couldn't help it- he automatically glanced at Coulson. What was the man thanking him for? He'd just been protecting Skye. It was something he would continue to do for as long as he stood. They all knew that, right? He'd killed Garrett for her; because of her. She'd helped him get away from that man and he'd forever owe her a debt for that. “For what?”

 

“For saving her,” replied Coulson quietly, eyes falling on Skye. “For bringing her to the plane. For staying on board with her.”

 

The plane shook a little as shots ricocheted off the external shell. Automatically, Grant reached out to steady Skye. His arm curled around her head, keeping her balanced against his body to reduce her movement.

 

When the shaking stopped a second later, Grant loosed his hold slightly and met Coulson's worried gaze. “I'd do anything for Skye. She-” his eyes fell back to the woman beside him, his hand brushing some plaster from her hair. “She saved me, gave me the strength to stand up to Garrett.”

 

“She seems to do that a lot,” remarked Coulson quietly, leaning forward in his seat a little to balance his arms on his legs. Grant could feel him staring at both of them for a long moment before he spoke again. “You love her.”

 

Grant closed his eyes, trying not to react to the blatant accusation. Truthfully? Yes, he did love her. He loved her and it terrified him. He'd killed Garrett because Garrett had tried to make him hurt her. It had been like he was a kid being forced to torture his brother all over again. Except this time, he'd fought back. He'd fought back for Skye because she made him feel things he hadn't felt in years. She brought out the good in him; made him want to do good things. “Yes.”

 

Nodding slowly, Coulson laced his fingers together, thumbs pressing against one another in an attempt to remain still. “Have you thought about coming back? For Skye, if nothing else.”

 

Tension shot though Grant's shoulders, his body stiffening as an edge of panic began to set in. Yes, he'd though about going back. About begging them for forgiveness and asking them to take him back. He'd killed people though; like he'd told Skye: he isn't a good man. Yes, just being around Skye made him want to be a better man, but that didn't mean he deserved to go back to the team. Didn't mean he deserved to be surrounded by people who were willing to let him come back. Not yet, at least.

 

“I can't yet,” whispered Grant, releasing Skye's head as he listened for the sounds of gunfire. The plane hadn't shaken in the last ten minutes and he was willing to bet they were out of danger. Satisfied, he unbuckled his safety harness and shifted so he could reach Skye's. “I don't deserve to come back. Not after what I did.”

 

Coulson didn't argue with him as Grant carefully freed Skye from her harness and shifted her into his arms. He settled her body against his easily enough, cradling her close to keep her steady. The sound of a third buckle unsnapping drew his attention back to Coulson as the man stood from his seat and headed towards the cockpit. “You should consider coming back. Whatever crimes you've committed or think you've committed, you can't atone for them alone.” He paused just outside the cockpit, glancing back at Grant with eyes filled with a combination of hope and grief. “We want to help you, Grant. So please, let us.” Then he ducked into the cockpit, shutting the door again behind him and leaving Grant alone with Skye unconscious in his arms.


	6. Grant

Pacing outside the medical lab half an hour later, Grant tried his best not to look like he was freaked out. Skye had just been hit on the head. She hadn't been shot (again) and she wasn't going to die from a small bump to the head. That's what he had to keep telling himself. It didn't stop the waiting from driving him mad though.

 

“You're gonna wear a hole in the floor if you keep that up,” remarked Trip, his shoulder thumping slightly as it collided softly with the wall beside the medical bay doors. The specialist had been disappearing and reappearing for the past half hour, most likely checking in on Grant between whatever other tasks he had to do. Not that Grant was going anywhere until he saw Skye. “Skye's got a hard head; she's gonna be fine.”

 

“I know,” growled Grant slightly, shoving a hand though his hair with a sigh. “But before, when she was shot, there was all that waiting and I'm just...”

 

“You're on edge,” finished Trip calmly, reaching out to stop Grant on his pass. “Look, I get it, okay? You're worried about Skye. I'm worried, too. So are May and Coulson. But you're the only one who looks like they're gonna pass out.”

 

“I can't help it,” muttered Grant, pulling away from Trip and moving back in front of the door into medical. “All I can think about is when she got shot.”  
  


Trip nodded slowly, reaching out and squeezing Grant's shoulder. “You look dead on your feet.”

 

For a long moment, Grant just stared at the doors before letting his shoulders slowly slump. Truthfully, he was exhausted. Between his worry for Skye, the massive adrenaline rush he had come off once they'd landed, and the constant tension weighing on him over what was going to happen next, all Grant wanted to do was collapse in bed. But he couldn't until he knew Skye was going to be alright. “I'm fine.”

 

“You're not fine,” snorted Trip, before walking up to the door of medical and sticking his head inside. “Hey, Jemma, you almost done? Ward's pacing like a caged animal out here and I'm about 95% sure he's going to collapse in the next five minutes.”

 

Grant winced, just barely managing to refrain from groaning. How could Trip even tell? He thought he was doing a good job of hiding his exhaustion. Apparently, his exhaustion was making him hallucinate. “Thanks Trip.”

 

“Hey, no problem man,” replied Trip, though there was amusement in his voice as he pulled his head out of medical. Holding the door open, he half shoved Grant inside. “Now go sit with Skye and get some sleep. I'd tell you to go sleep in one of the bunks, but you're clearly not gonna do that until she wakes up.”

 

“No, I'm not,” confirmed Grant with a sigh, stepping passed the specialist and into medical. He paused inside, turning back to look at Trip gratefully. “Seriously, thank you.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, go hang with our girl,” dismissed Trip, shaking his head a bit. “She'll be happy to see you. It's pretty obvious she's been worried.”

 

“She has?” asked Grant, surprise coloring his voice as his brow drew into a furrow. Skye was worried about him? That- that wasn't what he was expecting at all. He'd kidnapped her the last time he'd seen her. Yeah, he wasn't going to hurt her, but even he could admit his plan had been just a bit flawed and basically was an abduction.

 

Trip nodded slowly, offering Grant a tense smile. “She's not the only one, man. Coulson's been half climbing the walls. You should really talk to him before you disappear into thin air again.”

 

Grant cleared his throat a bit and looked away, nodding once. “I'll keep that in mind.”

 

With that, he scurried into the room and scanned the beds in search of Skye. He found her a moment later, still unconscious in a medical bed along the side wall. She looked like an angel laying there, her hair spread out around her head. Fear crawled through Grant's veins as he stared at her, his memory of how close she'd been to death the last time he saw her like this rising to mind. Except this time there were no bullets and she was significantly less pale.

 

A chair was already pulled up beside her bed, but no one was around that he could see. Of course, Simmons and Fitz had to be somewhere close; they practically lived in the lab. Apparently they'd cleared out for the moment, and that was fine with Grant. It felt like someone had been staring at him every minute since he'd climbed onto the plane with Skye in his arms; the silence and semi-isolation were a much welcome relief.

 

Settling into the chair, Grant carefully took Skye's hand and leaned towards the bed, his elbows balanced on his knees. His fingers idly played with Skye's as his eyes remained locked on her sleeping face. The steady rise and fall of her chest was something Grant desperately needed to see in that moment. It told him she was alive, that she wasn't going to die on them like she nearly had last time. His lips brushed against her fingers once before he laced his own digits between hers. The call of sleep was strong, but he didn't want to give in just yet. He wanted to see her wake up first.

 

Movement across the room caught Grant's eye as Trip re-entered Medical carrying something small. A faint smirk pulled at his lips as he approached, waving the small black object gripped in his hand a little. A familiar small, black object.

 

Trip held up the ID wallet as he reached the side of the bed, flashing it so Grant could see before carefully tucking it inside Skye's pillow. “It's for when she wakes up. She'll flip if she can't find it.”

 

“Was that-” started Grant, though Trip nodded before he could even finish his sentence.

 

“Your old ID,” confirmed Trip, smirking a bit before his eyes fell onto Skye. “She sleeps with it in her pillow. I don't know why, but for some reason she insists on keeping it close. Let her know it's there when she wakes up, okay?”

 

“Sure,” muttered Grant, shaking his head. Then Trip's words sank in and Grant felt his stomach twist. He hadn't even considered the idea that Skye might have started dating another member of the team like Trip. The thought made him ill. “How did you know she sleeps with it?”

 

“She got the bright idea for us to all sleep in the lounge one night, as a bonding exercise or something,” explained Trip with a shrug. “I accidentally grabbed her pillow at one point and found the wallet when I tried to go to sleep. Those things aren't comfortable to sleep on.”

 

“No, they're not,” agreed Grant quietly, his eyes falling back onto Skye as the tension from earlier seeped from his body. So she wasn't sleeping with Trip, it was just an accidental discovery thing. Good. That was good.

 

With the fear that Skye had moved on gone (even though part of him screamed she should forget him for her own good), the other part of Trip's sentence began to sink in. She slept with his badge? Really? He'd assumed she'd probably toss the old wallet when he'd slipped it into her pocket. The gesture was one of commitment; he was willing to commit his whole self (or what little of him was left) to her- to work hard so he might, someday, deserve to be near her again. He'd never dreamed she might keep it. “You sure it's mine?”

 

“I peeked before I put it back and switched our pillows,” admitted Trip with a shrug, rocking back on his heels a bit. “Thought maybe it was hers or something.” Shifting almost uncomfortably, he seemed to look anywhere but at Grant as he added: “I don't know if she likes it or not- I'm not sure she's even aware of it- but she still cares about you, man. That badge is proof.”  
  


“Yeah,” murmured Grant, squeezing her hand a little as warmth rushed through him. Skye cared; maybe she didn't love him like he loved her, but she cared. Maybe she'd understood what he was trying to say with his old ID or maybe it was just for memories, but the warmth it sparked in him was all the same regardless. “Thanks Trip, for bringing that for her.”

 

“No problem man,” assured Trip, turning away from the bed and heading for the door. “Now, try to relax. You seriously look like you're going to pass out any second.”

 

Grant almost laughed, except what Trip said was all too close to the truth. He was exhausted and just wanted to curl up in a nice, warm bed and sleep. Too bad the only bed near him was currently occupied. A chair would work though- he'd definitely slept in worse places. Settling his free arm on the bed, Grant lay his head across the top, eyes locked on Skye's face until he couldn't keep them open any longer and sleep swept him away.

 


	7. Skye

 

Groaning, Skye slowly came to, aware of the beeping machines around her and the pain in her head. She was starting to wonder how SHIELD agents had any brain cells left. This was, what, the third time in the past five months she'd been knocked out? _At least I wasn't shot. That is a wake up I never want again._

 

Turning her head a bit away from the bright overhead light, Skye forced her eyes open. The drab white curtains that hung in the medical bay came into focus almost immediately, leaving Skye scrambling to remember what had happened. She could remember a Hydra base and going in with Trip, May, and Coulson. She remembered breaking off from the group to cut towards the server room while Coulson made his way to the communications center to steal their transmission frequencies and Trip and May went to check on the labs. And she'd gone to the server room to download all their data. Then...the room had collapsed? _No, it was an explosion; I kinda remember being thrown backwards. So how did I end up in the playground?_

 

The sound of shifting caught her attention. Closing her eyes to block out the lights again, she carefully turned her head to the left (damn her head hurt) and reopened her eyes. There was a chair drawn up beside her bed, occupied by a man with a head of dark hair. A very familiar head of dark hair. She'd know it anywhere. _What is Grant doing here? Wait, he was at the base. I remember that. Just before the room blew up or whatever it did, he came running into the room._

 

Her first instinct was to wake him and ask what the hell had happened, but she couldn't bring herself to. The relaxed state of his shoulders spoke volumes, namely that he was sleeping peacefully. And that just didn't happen as far as she knew.

 

It was so weird to see even that slight peace cross Ward's face, Skye wasn't convinced she wasn't dreaming. This was a man who never looked relaxed, who she'd caught tossing on the couch on the Bus more than once when he passed out there after a mission. The fact that he now looked like he was actually sleeping soundly was shocking. Then again, maybe whatever had been haunting him before was resolved; maybe he'd finally found peace. She hoped that was true; he deserved peace after what Garrett had done to him. After everything that had happened to him.

 

“Did anyone ever tell you it's creepy to watch people sleep?” Ward' voice rumbled from his chest, sleepy and deep. There was a rough edge to it that would have been attractive, if Skye weren't laying in medical.

 

“My SO might have mentioned it to me once or twice,” replied Skye with a faint smile, squeezing his hand a little.

 

His chocolate brown eyes met hers over the edge of his arm, blinking sleepily up from where he was half laying on her bed. A touch of a smile tugged at his lips, softening his features. It was real and it made him look just a little more human than he had before. Certainly more human than his old ID photo. _His ID..._

 

Skye shot up in the bed sharply, almost immediately regretting the action as pain shot through her head. _Mental note to self: do not sit up sharply with a concussion._ Taking a deep breath, she pushed back the pain as her eyes rapidly scanned the room for her jacket. She wasn't wearing it or any of the other clothes she'd been in when they'd headed out. Someone (probably Jemma) had stripped her out of her old clothing and put her in a hospital gown instead, likely when looking for injuries. But she'd had Ward's ID with her in her jacket and she didn't want someone to accidentally catch her with it. That was something she didn't need to explain.

 

“It's in your pillow,” stated Ward with a yawn, sitting up and stretching his arms above his head. She paused momentarily to watch, admiring his arms (damn he had nice arms) before turning and fishing around inside her pillow. Sure enough, her fingers brushed against the smooth leather of the ID case almost immediately.

 

Her shoulders relaxed almost instantly as relief flooded her body. Good, she hadn't lost it. It wasn't that she was so worried about losing the ID as she was having to explain why she still cared about it. Especially because she wasn't sure exactly why she even cared. It was just a laminated card with his photo on it; it wasn't important.

 

“You really do care about that ID,” muttered Ward, startling Skye. Her fingers fumbled to keep hold of the soft leather, but it slipped from her grip and hit the floor with a soft thump. His chuckle would have been irritating if part of Skye weren't so relieved to hear it. It reaffirmed that he was actually there, with her, in the room.

 

“Yeah, well, if you hadn't left I wouldn't,” muttered Skye, leaning over the edge of the bed to fetch the ID from the floor. A pair of boots appeared in her line of sight just as she was reaching for the leather fold, halting her movement. Silently, she watched as Ward knelt down to get the ID and handed it back to Skye with an apologetic look.

 

“I'm sorry, Skye, but I had to leave,” murmured Ward. He stood quietly, rubbing the back of his neck in clear discomfort. “I needed answers.”

 

“Did you get them?” asked Skye, moving around on the bed before reaching out to tug him down. She wanted him next to her; there was something about having him right next to her that was comforting.

 

He half fell, clearly startled, but he recovered quickly all the same just like he always did. Folding his hands in his lap, Ward leaned forward a little to balance his elbows on his knees, his eyes turned towards the ground. “Yes.”

 

For a moment, Skye let the silence settle between them before reaching out to lay a hand gently on his arm. It drew his eyes back to her, the pain evident there-in. He looked like he needed a hug and Skye didn't hesitate to reach out and wrap her arms around him. “I'm here, if you want to tell someone what happened.”

 

Again, silence fell between them for a moment before Skye felt Ward's arms sneak around her waist. His hands settled along her back, drawing her closer against him until they were nearly crushed together. “It was worse than I thought.”

 

\--------------------------------

 

_-Bourne, Massachusetts-_

 

_The click of a key sliding in the front lock echoed loudly inside the house. For a moment, Grant tensed. What if he'd miscalculated and it was her husband home first? What if it was a lover? He knew she had them; his sister had always been like that. Even a good marriage to a local politician couldn't stop her from straying. Watching her house for days had revealed that much. Her husband would leave and another man would come over. As soon as he caught sight of them in the bedroom though, he always left for a while. Got a cup of coffee. That was something he didn't need to see._

 

_Any worries about who might be arriving home vanished in an instant the second he heard her curse outside the door. It sounded like the lock was sticking. Stomach twisting, he settled his elbows on his knees, fingers interlaced, and listened as his sister struggled uselessly with the lock for a moment longer. When the 'shck' of the deadbolt cut through the house, Grant felt his whole body lock up. This was it, time to get some answers._

 

_He waited patiently as she entered the hall, heels clicking against the wood. The sound of her setting what sounded like shopping bags aside made him scowl. Everything about his sister disgusted him. She spent so much money that she never earned herself, cheated on the man she'd married, basically threw away everything normal in her life. What he wouldn't give for even an ounce of that normalcy._

 

_A faint smirk slid over his lips as he heard her start to turn towards the kitchen down the hall. Oh, she was not going to be happy to see him, and he knew it. But he wanted answers and if he got to momentarily throw a wrench into his older sister's perfect freaking life, so be it. After the hell he'd been through, she deserved a little in return._

 

_Reaching out from the chair he'd settled into, he flicked on the light switch just as she stepped in front of the living room's archway. “Going somewhere, sister?”_

 

_He almost felt bad as the color washed out of her face. She hadn't even turned towards him, but the panic and shock were clear. Not that he could really blame her; the last thing she'd probably heard about him was his escape from jail. And he knew both his older brother and parents would have spun the fire incident at the house to make him look like some kind of monster. Hell, she'd probably assumed he was dead for the last fifteen years._

 

_Silently, she turned towards him, face ashen and a unspoken prayer that this all be a hallucination written across her face. But when her eyes set on him, her recoil wasn't hidden. The way she stepped backwards right into the long table in their hallway told him everything he needed to know about what she'd been told; about the lies his family had told her. Not that she had ever cared; she'd abandoned them as soon as she got the chance. She'd never stood up for him or Dana even though she was the clear favorite. Yeah, a little shake up in her life was well deserved. “Grant!”_

 

_His elbows shifted on his knees at her response, hands tightening where they rested in front of him. A glance up at her was all he could stand now that she was looking at him and his eyes fell elsewhere almost automatically. Nerves churned through his stomach as the reality of the situation finally began to settle in. Until she had acknowledged him, he could treat this encounter however he wanted to. But now that she knew he was there, that she'd acknowledged his presence, he needed to address his reasons for coming. Her husband would be home soon and he would need to get out of there as soon as the man stepped into the house._

 

_Carefully, he stood from the chair, watching her recoil sharply and press harder against the table at her back. A mirror hung behind her and it only took Grant a second to see why she looked so afraid. Pain and anger radiated from his eyes, his stance, everything. How long had he looked like that? Was it since she came in?_

 

_Returning his focus to his sister, Grant took a second to glance her over. She wasn't much different from when he'd last seen her. Age was pretty apparent on her face though, despite her attempts to hide it. He could see the edges of gray already combing through her hair despite the highlights she'd clearly attempted to use to cover it. Her face was too tight to be natural and her nose was different from what he remembered- obviously she'd had some plastic surgery done._

 

_A grim smirk slid over his lips as he watched her, his voice resentful and cold. “What's wrong, not happy to see your younger brother?”_

 

_For a long moment, she didn't speak. Couldn't. It was enough to cause the beginnings of a smirk to tug at Grant's lips. Something about leaving his perfect sister speechless was gratifying in a way he couldn't describe. When she finally did force herself to speak, it was with a voice filled with disbelief and fear. “You're dead. You're supposed to be dead. You disappeared for fifteen years.”_

 

“ _Sorry,” mocked Grant, shaking his head a bit. “I'm better at surviving than that. Or do you not remember the hell our parents reigned down on me? Oh wait, you ran away, so you weren't around to see that.”_

 

“ _Why are you even here?” Her words were spit like acid, but it didn't even phase him. He was used to her caustic tone. It was the major thing he could actually recall about his sister beyond her vague appearance._

 

“ _Answers,” stated Grant with a scowl. His voice hardened to a near razor edge, warning her away from trying to talk him out of it. He wasn't leaving without answers- not when those very answers had been denied to him for so long. And the only person who would know besides his apparently long-dead mother was his sister. That had been perhaps one of the less shocking discoveries he'd made._

 

_She to force a scowl onto her face in response, probably attempting to look menacing if he had to guess. It ended up twisting her already unpleasant features into a snarl that did nothing to hide her apparent fear. The only thing he wasn't sure of was what she was afraid of: him or someone finding him in her house. Her 'demented' and 'dangerous' brother showing up out of nowhere probably would throw a few wrenches into her life. Particularly because he had no issue exposing her for what she actually was. “I have nothing to say to you.”_

 

“ _Yes, you do,” growled Grant, taking a step closer as the scowl turned into a far more threatening look. And in that moment, he knew she was scared of him physically. In that split second it became clear just how large he was compared to her- how much stronger. “You're going to give me the answers I want, and then I'll be gone.”_

 

_Color drained from her face like paint splashed with turpentine. He could practically see the questions run through her head, her hands beginning to shake against the table. The fear from earlier deepened before his eyes and it made his stomach twist unpleasantly. What was she hiding that had her so afraid? Could there really be something so horrifying, she was more afraid of speaking about it than being injured?_

 

_Her desperation became apparent a second later with her cry of: “I'll call the police!” Grant almost laughed. As things stood, a familiar, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Like he would make it so easy for her to escape._

 

“ _Go ahead and try,” dismissed Grant with a shrug, watching as she grabbed for the closest phone. Silently, he watched as the lack of dial tone registered and the true severity of the situation began to set in. She dropped the useless hunk of plastic back into its cradle, face ashen as her eyes finally rose back to his in clear horror. The moment she realized she was trapped in the house with Grant was clear as day. Meeting her eyes, he made sure to detail what he wanted her to believe he'd done. “I cut your ground lines and I'm jamming your cell.” The second part was completely true of course, but the first wasn't. It was a simple line interrupter, far less destructive than an actual line cut and capable of being disabled by a remote control. It meant he didn't have to go back to the line to disable it, just in case he couldn't._

 

_Leveling her with a sharp look, he was careful to hold her attention as he spoke. This part was what he'd been dreading and again his stomach gave a harsh lurch. There was nothing to do now though but press forward. No matter what the answers actually were, he needed to hear them. “Now, did you know my father wasn't Howard?”_

 

_Sweat was practically visible on her brow beneath the make-up she'd swathed her face in. It made the twisting knot in his stomach tighten further. “What are you talking about? Of course he was your dad.”_

 

_The lie was unmistakeable an it made his temper flare momentarily. He let that rage pour forward too; clearly she wasn't scared enough that she was going to tell him the truth yet. And really, that was the only way he'd get the truth from her: scare her into spilling what he wanted her to._

 

“ _Don't take me for an idiot,” snarled Grant, eyes carefully narrowing into a harsh glare that promised physical pain if she didn't tell him what he wanted to know. It wasn't a threat he planned to execute; if all went the way he wanted then he shouldn't have to raise a hand against his sister. “I have proof he wasn't my father, so don't bother trying to convince me otherwise. Did. You. Know.”_

 

_The glare should have done it, but instead of increasing, her fear faded. Anger replaced it; anger and loathing filled her eyes and turned like a physical force onto him. “Yes! I knew you were a bastard child! Now go away and stop haunting my life! You almost ruined it once and I'm not letting you ruin it now!”_

 

_Shock replaced everything else he'd been feeling since killing Garrett. He'd almost ruined her life? How was that even possible? She was gone before he'd turned five. In that moment, he knew his face was transformed from the lumbering, monster threatening her safety to a startled and confused man. “How did I-”_

 

“ _Because you were born!” she hissed, fire filling her eyes. It burned so bright, Grant thought he might burn alive if she kept giving him that stare. “Because I got pregnant with you after a stupid one night stand and you almost destroyed my life! My only saving grace is that our parents fucking took you off my hands so I could escape!”_

 

_What? No, that wasn't...it wasn't possible. There was no way.... “You're- you....”_

 

“ _I'm your damn mom and I've hated you since the day I found out I was pregnant!” She practically shouted the words, throwing them like knives that cut deep into his skin. Pain twisted through his body with a nearly physical force that almost drowned out the rest of the world. But the clear glee in her voice was still very apparent as she continued. “I would have killed you myself, but dad wouldn't let me. Said if anyone found out, it would ruin his career. So mom and I left so no one would find out about you. Dad claimed we were visiting a sick relative, and we didn't come back until after you were born. I wanted to give you up but dad said it was too risky and another kid just made our family look all the happier! So we kept your sorry, worthless ass and I had to stare at the thing that almost ruined my life for the next five years until I met my husband and finally got out of that place!”_

 

_He wanted to say something, anything. Tried to force words from his frozen throat and lips. But no sounds would emerge, not even a whimper or grunt. Even his mind couldn't seem to wrap itself around all he'd just been told. His own sister was his mother? The older sibling he'd looked up to....she had given birth to him? She was his mother? How could that even be? She'd been almost twenty two when she'd gotten married, so she would have been, what, seventeen when she got pregnant? How the hell did a seventeen year old even meet someone like Coulson?_

 

_Metal clicked on metal, drawing his eyes to the front door. It was the sound of a key in a lock; her husband was home. He needed to get out of there, get away without being seen. But his body didn't want to move._

 

_Then his sister bolted for the front door and he bolted for the back as his brain finally came back online. Adrenaline flooded his system as he cut through the living room with the silence he'd been taught to use during infiltration and slid into the dining room. There was a door here leading onto a deck; he'd come through using a duplicate key to gain access. It was a knob lock and not a dead bolt, so the lock was silent._

 

_He reached the door just as his sister's shout to her husband reached his ears. “Henry! Thank god!”_

 

“ _Honey? What's wrong?” questioned a deep, soft male voice. Quickly but quietly, Grant opened the back door and hit a button on the remote control in his pocket to disable the disruptor. He waited a beat, listening to what they were saying. With any luck, this Henry would check the line before actually searching the house for some sign of Grant._

 

“ _My psychopath of a brother broke into the house!” Her voice was nearly a high whine, making Grant flinch. “He's right...” Her words trailed off as she, presumably, realized he wasn't standing in the living room anymore. “What....but he was right there!” Her startled tone was enough to kick up the corner of his lips. He might as well enjoy it while he could; once the shock wore off, who knew if he'd be able to appreciate his sister's horrified confusion or not._

 

“ _Honey, there's no one there,” stated Henry gently, voice clearly concerned. “Are you sure-”_

 

“ _I know what I saw!” she screamed in return, horror turning to rage in a second. That was the other thing he could remember about his sister besides her caustic words: her rage. There was an incident with a vase he remembered all too well, even now. “My damn psychotic brother was sitting in our living room!”_

 

“ _Alright,” soothed Henry, doing exactly what Grant had hoped he would. “We'll call the police. They can still catch him, I'm sure.” If he called the police now, he could be gone before they showed up. Hell, he should probably just shut and lock the door and get away. But he wanted to make sure there was no sign he'd been there first; some part of him had been angry at his sister already, and that part now wanted to make her look completely paranoid._

 

“ _Don't bother with the house phone. He cut the lines,” dismissed his sister. He could practically see the look of 'we don't have time for this' painted on her face. He'd seen it a few times over the past few days._

 

_The click of a phone being picked up cut through the house, followed by a moment of silence. He wouldn't be able to hear a dial tone from where he was, but depending on what was said next, he'd know if the device disabled properly or not._

 

_He knew as soon as his sister's disbelieving words reached his ears that he'd won. “But I swear....”_

 

_In a matter of seconds, Grant had shut the back door, locked it, and was gone in the night._

 

_\---------------------------------_

 

Skye's stomach was in knots when Ward finished, making her already present nausea worse. His _sister_ was his mother? And no one had ever told him? And instead of putting him up for adoption where a family who actually _wanted_ him would get a chance to raise him, they'd kept him and then treated him like shit. It made her want to punch someone. You don't keep a child you don't want just to save face in your community and there was no valid reason not to put him up for adoption.

 

A drip of water splashed against Skye's head, barely noticeable amid the pain. Another hit shortly after, then again. Over and over she felt the little drops strike her skin. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize what was happening either, especially when Ward's shoulders began to shake. He never made a sound but his grip tightened, holding her against his chest and pressing his face harder into her hair. If she weren't so startled, Skye really would have been sick. She'd never thought she would see the day her brave SO would cry.

 

Part of her wanted to make everyone responsible pay, but the other part of her just wanted to curl around Ward and take away as much of his pain as she could. Her fingers began to slid up and down his back as he continued to hold her. His grip never loosened, but his body began to relax gradually as he settled again.

 

Finally, he leaned back, eyes dry with only a faint puffiness marking his previous distress. Releasing her, Ward stood and settled back into the chair with his head turned down towards the ground, hands folded in his lap. His voice cracked as he spoke, his shoulders slumping in clear defeat. “Sorry.”

 

“It's alright,” assured Skye softly, reaching out to take his hand again. “You didn't do anything wrong.”

 

“I'm weak,” argued Ward. His fingers curled around hers, tangling their hands together. “A real man doesn't cry.”

 

“Yeah, that's bullshit,” countered Skye, rolling her eyes a bit. “I know AC has cried, and he's more of a man than Garrett could ever hope to be.”

 

Ward winced; she couldn't see his eyes, but the way his shoulders twitched and slumped further gave his expression away. It made Skye almost regret her words; almost. The truth was, Ward needed to break away from this whole mindset that Garrett had been right about anything. Yeah, that probably wouldn't be easy (Garrett was a manipulative asshole who'd dug his way into Ward's head pretty good), but the best place to start was to remind Ward that Garrett hadn't been right. Maybe if he heard other people saying it, people he trusted, it would start to sink in.

 

“Hey,” called Skye gently, trying to get his attention. It was so tempting to tilt his head up so she could see his face, but she knew he would resist. Enough people had forced him to do things he didn't want to in his life, she didn't need to be another person on that list. “Ward, you're safe here and you know AC will welcome you back if you want to come back. You're a good man.”

 

“No, I'm not,” growled Ward slightly, one hand rising to push through his hair in frustration. “You said it yourself on the Bus.”

 

It was Skye's turn to wince, her memory of that moment on the Bus when she'd told him he'd been right about her not liking the real him came back in an instant. There wasn't a good way to backpedal on that one either; in that moment she hadn't liked him. In fact, she'd wanted to hit him over and over, to beat him into the ground for his treachery. And when she thought back on that moment, she still didn't like the real him. But the real him she'd seen there and the man who sat in front of her now weren't the same person, either. He'd been as thoroughly tricked and manipulated by Garrett as they had been by him. Now, he was a man without a mentor or a goal. This was probably the closest to being himself that Ward had been in a long time, if ever. He wasn't here because someone told him to be; he was here because he wanted to be.

 

“I never said you weren't a good man,” corrected Skye softly, squeezing Ward's hand in hopes he'd look up at her again. “I said I wouldn't like the real you and yeah, right then, I didn't. But I also didn't realize that _wasn't_ the real you, either. That man on the Bus? That was Garrett's puppet.” Taking a deep breath, she chose her next words as carefully as she possibly could. Which really wasn't very careful but, hey, she was trying. “Grant, this is the closest I've come to seeing the real you. You were waiting here, with me, while I was unconscious, presumably to make sure I woke up. And since you're the last thing I remember seeing clearly, I'm assuming you got met out. So unless you're here under orders from some other Hydra bastard, I can't say you're not a good man.”

 

“I'm not,” stated Ward quickly, his head shooting up from where it hung. Panic was visible in his eyes along with horror and denial. It was pretty clear he didn't want her to even _think_ he was working for someone else again. His reaction would have invoked mistrust if she didn't know he was a better liar. Truth was, if he was working for someone else, he'd probably look significantly less panicked at the idea. “I'm not Hydra, I never was. I don't believe in that crazy crap.”

 

“I guessed that,” assured Skye, meeting his semi-panicked look with a calm one of her own. “If you were I kinda doubt you'd look this freaked out. You're a better actor than that.”

 

“True,” admitted Ward quietly. A touch of a smile tugged at his lips as relief flooded his face, his shoulders relaxing just a little.

 

Skye allowed a soft smile to kick up at the corners of her lips as well. She wouldn't say she'd forgiven Ward for betraying them; her anger was still at war with her compulsive need to help him heal from all of this. But it was fading a little. She might not forgive him yet, but at least she could put her pain aside to try to help put him back together. Then, maybe, when he was whole again, she could actually forgive him.

 

Leaning back in the medical bed, Skye released Ward's hand to search for the buzzer she was hoping was somewhere near by. Her head was killing her and all she wanted was some kind of painkiller and sleep. Real sleep, not the 'I was knocked unconscious' kind. That wasn't sleep.

 

“Looking for this?” asked Ward quietly, holding up a red button attached to a wire. He smiled a bit as he pressed it once, then passed it to Skye and stood. “Simmons said she'd be here in seconds.”

 

“What, you're not hanging around?” joked Skye even as she settled back to wait for the scientist. Ward was twitching visibly; she knew he wouldn't be around when the scientist showed up. She just wanted to make sure he wouldn't run immediately. There were other people on the team who needed to speak with him before he left.

 

Ward shifted a little uncomfortably, his eyes locked on the doors. “I just- I'm not ready to face everyone. Not yet.”

 

“Yeah, I got that part,” assured Skye, reaching out to take his hand in hers. She squeezed once before releasing his hand and leaning back again. “Just, don't run. I'm not gonna lie and say we aren't mad you betrayed us or say we trust you because I'm pretty sure no one here does.” Again, she saw Ward wince, but she continued before he could bolt. “You hurt us, but you were mislead and hurt, too. And the only way we can all get better, including you, is if we help each other. Pieces solving a puzzle, remember?”

 

“Pieces solving a puzzle,” muttered Ward, nodding slowly. He forcefully pulled his eyes from the doors and met Skye's. “I'm not going to swear I'll stay. I can't make promises I'm not sure I can keep to you- not anymore. I'm not going to lie to you ever again.” Taking a deep breath, his eyes went to the door again. “Even if I don't stay here, I won't be far away. I'll make sure you can find me.”

 

“Alright,” agreed Skye softly. She understood the need to stand apart- how uncomfortable it was to be around the people you betrayed. She'd done the same thing after all; if anyone was going to understand what it meant to be the betrayer, it was her. “Just don't try to do this on your own. We're here and, like I said, we might not trust you immediately but at least we can all help each other try to get better. After all, that's what you guys did for me.”

 

Again, Ward nodded once before heading for the door. He didn't say goodbye as he stepped out into the hall and Skye's stomach twisted in anxiety as she watched him go. She knew he wasn't leaving for good though- that he would come back and see her at least. He had to at least come back and say goodbye.

 


	8. Grant

The bunk felt almost claustrophobic as Grant stepped inside his former room on the Bus, though he knew it wasn't the actual size of the room that invoked that feeling. The room had always been a bit small for the 6'2” agent, but what was pressing on him now was the weight of his guilt. The memories of everything he'd gone through with the team. Once he was away from the Bus- back with Garrett and away from everything that reminded him of the team, he'd been able to push his memories into the darkest recesses of his mind and forget they'd ever trusted him. Forget he'd had a place he belonged, even if it was just for the briefest moment. And now, as he stood in his old bunk, those memories came racing back like a punch to the gut. Except he could take a punch to the gut; he wasn't sure he could take this.

 

“You look overwhelmed.” Coulson's voice nearly sent Grant through the ceiling. As it was, his head smacked against the hardened plastic ceiling with a sharp thump.

 

What was Coulson even doing there, in his old bunk? Had he followed him onto the plane? Or was Coulson here for some other reason? Grant had only been inside the new base once, to plant the bugs he used to track the team's actions and keep track of where they were heading so he could protect them like he was supposed to. Maybe Coulson still used the Bus for something. Maybe that's why he was here. But that still begged the question of how he'd found Grant in the first place. After everything he'd seen in SHIELD and with Garrett, he didn't believe in coincidences. And after everything that had happened, he at least owed Coulson a chance to talk without Skye or someone else being in danger.

 

Rubbing at the sore spot (and possible lump) forming on the top of his head and taking a quiet breath, Grant turned to face the man he wasn't sure he was ready to face at all.

 

Coulson was more rumpled than Grant ever recalled seeing the man. Even when he'd been sparring with May, his former boss had always looked put together. Now, he was missing his tie and his normal jacket had been discarded somewhere. Even his hair looked a little disheveled. It almost looked like Coulson had been...

 

A hint of a bruise at Coulson's throat caught Grant's eye and he actually felt a bit sickened by the sight. That particular bruising pattern was one Grant was very familiar with- largely because he'd had to hide that same pattern himself more than once. It would start on the shoulder and head up to just below the collar of his suit.

 

“You're sleeping with May.” The words were out of Grant's mouth before he could fully realize what he was saying. It almost made him wince, realizing how much control he'd clearly lost.

 

Subconsciously, Coulson raised a hand to the bruising on his neck, a touch of red coloring his face. “Not exactly. It was more of a 'I got drunk and talked her into getting drunk with me' scenario.”

 

Both of Grant's eyebrows shot up in true surprise. Coulson had talked May, the Calvary, into getting drunk? “How did you manage that?” Again, the words escaped without his consent. Maybe hitting his head had caused some damage.

 

“It's not as hard as you'd think,” replied Coulson with a shrug. His lips pressed together a little before he stepped into the bunk and moved around Grant to sit on his former bunk, hands folded between his knees. “May and I have...history.”  
  


“I suspected that,” admitted Grant as he moved to lean on the wall beside his door. “She, um, used the wrong name once or twice. It didn't really sound like some fantasy, either.”

 

“It was before Bahrain,” confirmed Coulson sadly, eyes dropping to his hands. “Back when she was more...herself. We were closer then. But after what happened, she couldn't do it anymore.”

 

Grant nodded slowly, eyes falling to the floor. That was about what he'd expected and part of him had guessed something along those lines had occurred based on how Coulson and May would look at each other sometimes. It didn't mean he wasn't disturbed by the fact he'd shared a sexual partner with his father, though. “You're back together now, though.”

 

“I wouldn't say together,” stated Coulson, shrugging a bit. “We're just..I think she's looking for something to hold onto again. Everything's changed now and it's been so radical, I think she just wants something familiar again.”

 

“That doesn't sound like May,” remarked Grant, his brow furrowing a little as he looked back at Coulson. “That sounds more like something you'd do.”

 

“Maybe,” agreed Coulson with a nod. “But I can safely say I'm doing it because I love her.” His eyes rose back to Grant's, meeting his eyes calmly. “I never stopped loving her.”

 

Grant nodded back once, firmly. He could understand that now, mostly because of Skye. He'd pushed hard to get her back after he'd betrayed them, but when Garrett actually had her in his grasp, Grant would have given anything for her to fly away. In those moments, he'd known Skye would never be able to stay with him; it was against everything she stood for. And now that Garrett was gone, Grant was willing to wait for as long as she needed him to in order to get him back. He was willing to do whatever she needed him to do, just to make sure she was happy.

 

“You're thinking of Skye.” Coulson's voice broke Grant's thoughts, bringing his focus back on the man.

 

It took Grant a moment to respond, the simple word catching in his throat. Every urge to deny the fact kicked in automatically, the need to protect Skye almost overwhelming. But Coulson wasn't Garrett. He wouldn't make Grant hurt Skye like Garrett tried to. It was the only thing that let him actually speak the truth. “Yes.”

 

A touch of a smile tugged at Coulson's lips before he pat the bed beside him in a gesture for Grant to sit. He paused for a moment before slowly edging to the bunk to accept the offer. It felt weird to sit beside a man he'd so severely betrayed, but the sign of good will helped settle him a little all the same.

 

“We aren't going to use her against you, Grant,” assured Coulson gently. “We're a family, we protect each other. We don't hurt each other by using what people love against them.”

  
  


Grant's name sounded weird coming from Coulson and it was pretty obvious the man was having trouble actually saying his name, but Grant preferred it to 'Ward' right now. After what he'd learned, he wasn't sure he even wanted to keep his last name. The association was already bad before, but what his sister ( _mother_ ) had told him made the former ill-ease a actual stomach-churning sickness.

  
  


Nodding slowly, Grant raised his head a little and looked at Coulson dead on. “I'm not sure I can stay. I just don't think I'm ready. I can't handle that much change right now and I don't deserve to come back. Not yet at least.”

  
  


“I know,” assured Coulson softly. “Don't get me wrong, I want you to stay where we can help you. I'd rather have you here, with us, than out there where we can't help you. But I understand.” There was more there; Grant could see it. Coulson wanted to talk about what they were, about him being the man's son and what that meant. He wanted to get to know Grant for real.

  
  


But Grant just wasn't ready for that either. Not all at once. “I know. But before I could tell people things and they weren't all true. People assumed things about me that weren't true but I could just let them make those assumptions. Now I'd have to...I'm not sure I can just _talk_ to people like I'd be expected to. Not sure I'm ready to explain everything.”

  
  


“You don't have to explain anything until you're ready,” reasoned Coulson. His tone was still soft, but it conveyed his statement as a fact all the same. “No one will expect you to explain anything until you're ready.”

  
  


“I wish that was true,” muttered Grant with a shake of his head. “Simmons and Fitz will ask. Triplett might not; I think he always knew Garrett was a little off. But Skye...sir, I have to be able to tell Skye. And until I can, I don't deserve to come back.”

  
  


“Grant, I think Skye already has a pretty good idea of what happened to you,” stated Coulson, one of his hands rising towards him. It froze half way to Grant's shoulder, hovering in the air for a moment before he dropped it back into his own lap. “I caught her digging around in your files after you disappeared.”

  
  


Grant felt his stomach turn a bit and fall out. No, Skye couldn't know what happened to him. Garrett had taken him off the grid for five years- there was nothing for her to track. And who knew how much of his SHIELD file had been tampered with. The only things in his file would be his family history and that was something Skye didn't need to know. Something he wasn't sure he ever wanted her to really know. Yes, he'd told her some of it, but it paled in comparison to the full story.

  
  


“Grant?” called Coulson. A slight weight on Grant's shoulder brought his focus back onto Coulson and away from his panic over what Skye might have found out. “Grant, it's alright. Skye won't talk about what she found. All I wanted you to know is that she already knows some of what happened to you. I don't know how much she found or how much she read, but it was there all the same.” Shifting around, Coulson turned so he could completely face Grant. “She wants you here where we can help you get better. Skye is afraid for you and honestly, so am I. Neither of us want you to get hurt trying to redeem yourself.”

  
  


Anger struck out from nowhere, making Grant want to bolt from the room before he hurt Coulson. It was sharper than he remembered and far more vicious than he ever expected anything to feel again. His determination to remain in place and calm was the only thing that stopped him from punching Coulson and storming from the bunk. He couldn't hide it though; his voice nearly dripped with acid as he spoke, fists clenching tightly and eyes turned towards the floor. “Why? Because I'm your son so you suddenly want to keep me safe?”  
  
  


“No,” stated Coulson almost immediately, his hand tightening against Grant's shoulder in an almost painful way. “I want you safe because you were once a member of my team and I'm hoping you can be again someday. I want you safe because no one has bothered to protect you and nobody can be strong on their own all the time. But mostly, I want you safe because you deserve a chance to be yourself and not someone's punching bag or pet.”

  
  


The anger from before ebbed in the face of Coulson's confession, leaving Grant with an almost hollow feeling where the storm had sprang up. Coulson wanted him here because he wanted him safe. This man he'd betrayed wanted to help him become himself, whoever that would be. It wasn't forgiveness; Grant knew that just as he'd known Skye's own request he not just leave wasn't forgiveness. Both Coulson and Skye weren't forgiving him and he was fine with that; he didn't deserve to be forgiven. But he would admit, it would be easier to redeem himself if he could work in some capacity with the team again. If they would have him.

  
  


“I'm not sure the others agree with you,” remarked Grant quietly, reaching up to rub at his eyes. He felt exhausted. The initial tiredness from earlier had faded with his nap, but it was coming on strong again like some kind of tidal wave. He really needed to sleep.

  
  


Coulson stood up suddenly, shifting around to motion for Grant to lay down. “Think on it. For now though, you should sleep. You look exhausted.

  
  


“I'm fine.” insisted Grant with an uneasy shift. He didn't want to lie to Coulson, but Garrett's lectures about admitting weakness were still playing like siren's songs. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to tell the truth about how he was feeling. Even if he wanted to crawl into bed and not come out again for a month.

  
  


“No, you aren't,” countered Coulson, this time tugging back the sheets a little. “And there's no reason you can't sleep here tonight. Skye will kill you if you leave without saying anything.”

  
  


“Yeah, she will,” agreed Grant, rubbing his eyes again. He needed to go tell Skye goodbye, reassure her he'd be nearby. Tell her that she could always come to him if she needed something and remind her that he'd be watching over them all. “I should go find her.”

  
  


“You should get some sleep,” repeated Coulson, leveling a 'please stop being stubborn and just listen to me' look at Grant. “I'll go find Skye and ask her to come up here if you lay down.”

  
  


Something about the phrase stung a little for Grant, not that it really took him long to figure out why: Coulson sounded like a dad talking to a stubborn child. It almost hurt a little as an image of a slightly younger Coulson telling him the same thing popped into his mind. It was a fantasy of course; he hadn't met Coulson before he'd joined his team. But the image was painful all the same. This was what he could have had; this is what he could have had if his family had put him up for adoption. If he'd known who his dad was.

  
  


Without much thought, he did as Coulson said, kicking off his shoes before retaking his seat on the bunk. It had more to do with him being dead tired than the fact that Coulson had been the one to tell him to lay down. Only Skye could truly tell him what to do. “I'm not staying. I can't. I don't deserve to."

  
  


"You can stay tonight," corrected Coulson quietly, pulling a blanket from overhead storage and tossing it over Grant. "Whatever was expected of you before, it's not now. You have people who want to help you, Grant. You don't have to do everything alone anymore. That includes redeeming yourself."

  
  


Grant didn't say anything in response- he wasn't sure what to say. 'Thank you' didn't sound right but he wasn't sure how else to show gratitude. He'd shown his gratitude to Garrett through loyalty that ultimately proved to be misplaced. That was something he knew he couldn't do again, not right now. Even though Coulson had no reason to lie to him, he knew he couldn't bring himself to trust anyone right now except Skye. He wasn't even sure if that was trust or blind attachment, but she gave him hope and that was something he desperately needed.

  
  


Coulson might have been saying something, but Grant wasn't sure what it was as he settled onto the bed. He hadn't exactly been sleeping well the past few months and living alone in a cabin had him on constantly high alert. He hadn't felt safe enough to sleep soundly in ages and the familiarity of his bunk was quickly settling in. Even though he hadn't wanted it to, the Bus had become a safe haven for him. And now that he was back, that same feeling of security was settling in again. It was enough to lull him to sleep with a speed that would have alarmed him, if he were conscious enough to care.

  
  



	9. Skye

“Skye.”

  
  


The former hacker halted halfway down the hall to her room, turning to look back at the person calling her name. Coulson waved a little at her as he approached from behind, his stride calm but his face almost the exact opposite. Exhaustion was pressing at her body and right now all she really wanted to do was sleep (Simmons had, thankfully, cleared her to do just that). The look on Coulson's face pushed all thoughts of sleep from her mind though, bringing her focus solely onto her boss. “What's up, AC?”

  
  


“I need you to come with me,” stated Coulson simply, motioning for her to follow him back the direction he'd come. He didn't offer an explanation though- just turned and headed back the way he'd come as if he expected Skye to follow.

  
  


She didn't think twice about following him, if only because she was curious about what could have Coulson on edge. “Is something wrong?”  
  
  


“Yes and no,” replied Coulson with a shake of his head, maneuvering down the halls towards the hanger. Whatever this was about, obviously Coulson wasn't going to just tell her. Which meant it was probably personal, and the most personal issue Coulson could have that he'd need her help with was Ward.

  
  


“Okay, so, there isn't a problem?” prompted Skye, following him all the same. She just really, really hoped this wasn't going to take long. Her bed was calling.

  
  


“There is,” stated Coulson, turning into the hanger and heading for the Bus. “But that isn't why I need you.”

  
  


“Alright, so why do you need me?” asked Skye, rubbing her head a bit. Simmons had given her some painkillers, but they were only doing so much (which really wasn't much of anything) and it was killing her already limited patience.

  
  


Coulson sighed as he entered the Bus, heading up the stairs towards the lounge. “I promised Grant I'd bring you up if he would lay down.”

  
  


Yep, it had to do with Ward. “So he really _was_ fall over exhausted?”

  
  


“Basically,” confirmed Coulson, shaking his head a bit. He paused when they hit the Bus' lounge, motioning for Skye to stop as well. “Skye, we need to convince him he doesn't have to leave.”

  
  


Skye couldn't really help the snort that escaped her. They weren't going to be able to talk Ward out of running- that just wouldn't happen. She knew from personal experience how badly having to face the people you'd betrayed made you want to run. She'd been betrayed twice and betrayed the people who'd accepted her for a man. For the wrong reasons. Ward had basically been through the same thing, he'd just killed some people in the process. And she really, really needed to sleep if she was thinking about something like a person's life in such light terms. Not that she'd been a great fan of Hand to begin with, but still, the woman hadn't deserved to die like that.

  
  


“What are you thinking?” asked Coulson suspiciously, his eyes narrowing a little. The way his face scrunched up almost reminds her of a disapproving father. 

  
  


It almost made Skye laugh and she definitely needed sleep if Coulson's suspicious/disapproving dad face was making her want to laugh. “I'm thinking that stopping him isn't a) possible and b) smart. It's not easy to face the people you betrayed and there's no way to make that kind of thing easier. If he's not comfortable being around us all the time right now, we need to accept that. When he's ready to face everyone, he will.”

  
  


“Skye, we don't even know where he's staying,” argued Coulson, his lips pursing in frustration. “We have no clue if he's even safe. We're wanted criminals, if you'll recall.”

  
  


“Yeah, I know,” growled Skye, irritation born of exhaustion, pain, and stress flashing up like a fire. “But you know what? He feels stupid right now. Stupid, embarrassed, and like he can't trust anyone, including himself. He feels like he made an idiotic mistake, like the floor's been pulled out from under him and he needs to go put himself back together before he can start talking to people again.”

  
  


Coulson actually recoiled a bit, blinking at her like he'd been bitten. Which, well, she had snapped at him and he really didn't deserve it (he was just worried about his son after all). He settled back into furrowed-brow secret agent mode quickly though, so obviously he wasn't too shocked by the whole thing. “Did he talk to you about this already?”

  
  


“He didn't have to,” dismissed Skye, pressing against her temples slightly in an attempt to make her head _stop_ pounding for half a second. “I've been where he is, I know what he's going through.”

  
  


“Right,” muttered Coulson, rubbing his eyes. “Miles.”

  
  


“Yep,” confirmed Skye without going into further detail. He was still a semi-sore topic, mostly because he was a jackass that still e-mailed her on occasion in an attempt to get back in her pants. She'd crawl into bed with Garrett's ghost before she let Miles within five feet of her. “So I know what he's feeling. Well, I know what he _should_ be feeling. Garrett had control of him for a long time I think, so who knows what he's for sure thinking. But, it seems like a reasonable assumption that he's probably pretty confused. Plus, you know, he keeps saying things like how he 'doesn't deserve to come back' and he has to 'redeem himself'. That's pretty typical post-betrayal/post-betrayed stuff.”

  
  


Coulson leaned heavily against one of the chairs in the lounge, eyes focused on some spot on the ground only he seemed to be able to find interesting. “I still want you to talk with him. See if you can convince him to stay. It's safer if he's here than if we let him disappear again.”

  
  


“Even if it's only to a cabin maybe two miles from here?” countered Skye, her own eyebrow trying to rise only to be stopped by the pain. Slowly shaking her head, Skye forced those thoughts away and focused entirely on Coulson. “Look, he's upset. He feels abandoned. And when he gets up, I'll talk with him about all of that. But right now? I'm going to go into his bunk where I'm assuming he's sleeping, crawl on top of him, and sleep myself. Because I have a concussion still and Simmons only told me I could go back to sleep because she doesn't believe I'm going to die if I do. Apparently that whole coma thing is mostly a myth.” Stepping around Coulson, Skye headed into the corridor leading to the bunks with a wave. “Later AC, go get some sleep yourself. And by sleep, I don't mean sex with May. That's not gonna help you get any rest.”

  
  


The sound of Coulson choking followed Skye down the hallway to Ward's quarters. The door to his former room was open, presumably never closed by Coulson. Especially given Ward was actually asleep inside. Indeed, the former specialist was passed out on his bunk, facing up and sleeping like a rock.

  
  


Skye didn't hesitate to close the door behind her or saunter over to the bed. She also didn't hesitate to crawl onto the bed with Ward. The agent in question turned as soon as she started to slide in, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugging her close while he slept on cluelessly. He would be mortified when he woke up, but they could deal with that later. Right now, she just wanted to sleep and Ward's arms weren't stopping her.

  
  


Closing her eyes, she forced herself relax into Ward's grip. It wasn't as hard as she thought it would be. She was falling asleep almost as soon as her eyes were closed. Less than a minute after entering the room, Skye was asleep wrapped in Ward's arms. They slept on like that through to the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done. I know, Coulson and Ward don't exactly get to 'talk' in the traditional sense, but hey, it's more than before. Honestly, I wasn't sure how to handle that particular emotional roller-coaster. It's also a complex matter that can't be covered entirely in one or two fics. 
> 
> Thanks for reading everyone, I hope this was what you were all hoping for from a sequel. Comments are welcome!


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